


•A 




♦ 



















/ 















% 



























. 








* J 











I 





















OLD RACLOT’S MILLION 

(Le Million du Pere Raclot) 


FROM THE FRENCH OF 

EMILE RICHEBOURG 


ADAPTED BY 

MRS. BENJAMIN LEWIS 

TRANSLATOR OF "JUANCHO,” “THE PRICE OF A CORONET,” ETC. 



NEW YORK 

CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

104 & 106 Fourth Avenue 




Copyright, 1891, by 
CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 


All rights reserved. 





THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, 
RAHWAY, N. ,T, 


TO THE 


QUIXOTIC WOMEN OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 

THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE 


TRANSLATOR. 



OLD RACLOT’S MILLION 
I. 

The story we are going to relate is a true 
one ; it is one of a rapacious old peasant. 

There are plenty of greedy, seliisli old 
peasants in France, and Pere Kaclot is not 
overdrawn. 

Mathurin Kaclot is the name of our chief 
character. When he was poor, he was called 
Mathurin, and when he became the owner of 
a small farm, Pere Mathurin ; now, since he 
had become a millionaire, Monsieur Kaclot. 
Thus the world salutes wealth. 

We will not tell our reader his real resi- 
dence or the county, but must substitute 
his native village, which we will call Aube- 
court. Aubecourt is a pretty little place, 
almost eight hundred years old, and only 
boasting of one fine house, besides the 
chateau which was built during the reign of 
Francis I. To-day it is almost a complete 

ruin ; in fact some parts of it are roofless, 

1 


2 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


and the windows are bare of glass. Ivy has 
grown over the rugged walls as a green and 
glossy mantle to hide the ravages of civil 
wars and ruthless time. However, a few 
of its rooms are still habitable, and are oc- 
cupied by the bailiff of the court. 

The village of Aubecourt is built on the 
side of a small river, which, with the never- 
ceasing flowing brook, renders the fields and 
vineyards of the neighborhood very fertile. 
The houses are built of a fine white stone, 
and the roofs thatched with straw. The 
ancient chateau on the hill looks like a pro- 
tecting giant to these small cottages at its 
base. 

The surrounding country is extremely 
rich and fertile, the corn fields are noted 
for their enormous yield of grain, and as for 
the vineyards, why, their fruit is not only 
better, but the wine is celebrated all through 
the Department. The peasants are all vine- 
dressers or farmers ; there are no poor or 
beggars, as there is plenty of work for all 
in this modern Eden. Of course there are 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


3 


a few engaged in business, enough to supply 
the wants of their fellow-men. There is a 
grocer, a butcher, and a tobacconist ; a wine 
shop and a carpenter; besides a tinsmith 
and a blacksmith. Those that have no land 
work for those that have ; hence peace 
and plenty reign supreme. 

The farmers around Aubecourt are rich ; a 
few, perhaps, better off than their neighbors. 
One would certainly be convinced of this 
fact were he to see the flocks of sheep and 
herds of fat cattle on the annual fair day. 

Mathurin Raclot was the son of a poor 
day laborer, and at the age of twenty-six 
he was a farm servant, and to all appear- 
ances likely to remain so all his life. He 
was intelligent, rather nice looking, able to 
read, write, and figure ; tall, robust, very 
strong, and not afraid of work. And he 
possessed another very rare quality among 
the young men of his day, viz., “he was 
very economical.” He was so careful, that 
even the old peasants would say that he was 
a miser. He earned two hundred francs a 


4 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


year, with his board, lodging, and washing ; 
and spent the smallest sum he possibly 
could. Each five-franc piece he earned lie 
put in his leather pouch, which he buried 
for fear of thieves. All the clothing he 
bought he was forced to, and he would cry 
when his wooden sabots were worn out. 

While the other young men of his age 
would have parties at the village cafe on 
a fete day, Mathurin saved. He went no- 
where for amusement ; never had he visited 
the ball on the village green. He would 
dearly have liked to have gone, but could 
not bear to loosen his purse strings. 

The worthy farmers, who did not guess the 
real sentiments of Mathurin, would eulogize 
his character as a youth of remarkable 
virtue and probity. 

On Sunday and fete days he would spend 
his leisure time in the stable or field among 
the animals he loved, or he would shut him- 
self in his garret and count his beloved 
hoard. 

This young man, first by being economi- 


OLD DACLOTS MILLION. 


5 


cal, became, as bis money increased, avari- 
cious. Sometimes a passer-by would see 
him looking at a fine field of wheat just 
ready for the reaper, or a field whose pas- 
toe was noted. What were his thoughts, 
his dreams? 

After a time he became ambitious to 
own a corner of mother earth that he 
could reap and till for himself, instead of 
laboring for others. Like all peasants, 
Mathurin Raclot loved the earth, and lie 
worshiped money. Through instinct he 
had become a usurer. Perhaps he was igno- 
rant that the law prohibited money being 
lent at usurious interest, but he lent it at 
the highest rate of interest he could pro- 
cure, and without any scruples on his part, 
either. People knew he had a good round 
sum saved, and often during some tem- 
porary embarrassment would come and bor- 
row of him. This is how it would come 
about : 

“ How large a sum do you require ? ” he 
would ask. 


OLD HA CLOT’S MILLION. 


“ Fifty francs.” 

“ When can you repay it ? ” 

“In six months, when I have made a 
sale of ” 

“ Very well, I will lend you fifty francs, 
and you will give me your note for sixty.” 

We need not say that this was his pro 
rata on all sums he lent. 

Mathurin knew very well with whom he 
was dealing : when a person whom he did 
not consider as reliable would want to bor- 
row, he never had any money to lend. 

He had begun his lending by loaning 
some of the young men, who would bor- 
row five to ten francs at a time, and re- 
pay it inside of three months ; and it 
was understood that they paid one franc 
for the use of five, or two for ten. 

Mathurin quickly saw that these small 
loans paid him very well. 

He would reason with himself in the 
following manner, which to him seemed 
perfectly logical and just : 

With money, one purchases land, and 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


7 


when one has purchased the land one 
works it for all it is worth. Since it is 
with money one buys the land, one must 
make money produce all it can, like one 
works the earth. 

So, you see, Mathurin Raclot, without 
being a financier, knew the value of capi- 
tal and how it could be doubled. 

-Still, he was nothing but a peasant, 
peasant from the crown of his head to 
the soles of his sabots, and as we have 
already said, he loved the soil. A chance 
offered, and he purchased for cash, very 
reasonably, three good fields and an or- 
chard with enough pasture to keep a 
cow. 

He was thirty-four years old. He 
thought he ought to get married. He 
cast his eyes r on Celine Noirot, a girl 
who worked for the farmers by the day 
during the harvest season. She was a 
young person of exemplary character; gen- 
tle, quiet, amiable, and without being 
pretty, still she had a pleasing face and 


8 


OLD R A CLOT’S MILLION. 


winning ways. She was nearly twenty- 
five years old and anxious to be married. 
She accepted Mathurin’s proposal grate- 
fully; firstly, because she liked him, though 
she found him rather dull and stupid; 
secondly, because every one spoke well of 
him, and she would not be so foolish as 
to refuse so' good a chance. 

She was very poor, and he already 
possessed some means and land ; besides, 
with such a careful man for a husband, 
she felt sure she would never lack the 
necessaries of life. 

At Aubecourt and in the neighboring 
villages, there were plenty of marriageable 
girls, girls that had some dowry, who 
would gladly wed Mathurin had they the 
chance ; but he only wanted Celine Noirot. 

Was it because he loved her? Certainly 
not. This man had no heart; what little 
tenderness he had had, was long ago 
dried up. He could love no one. He 
had calmly calculated on associating his 
life with Celine’s. 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


9 


Celine Noirot was an orphan; she lived 
in a village called Ligoux, about three miles 
from Aubecourt, with an old aunt, her 
father’s sister. On her mother’s side she 
had another uncle and aunt, who had left 
their native place many years before our 
story opens. They had gone to Paris, but 
no one knew where they lived or what they 
did. They had never returned to Ligoux, 
and since Celine’s mother died they had 
never written. So for almost thirty years 
no one had spoken of Jules Bertrand and 
his sister Marie. She had left Ligoux to 
go out as a servant in a respectable bour- 
geoise family. 

What we are going to tell our readers was 
not known in either Aubecourt or Ligoux. 

Jules Bertrand went to Paris when he 
was eighteen and apprenticed himself to 
a copper spinner. He learnt his trade 
thoroughly and became an experienced me- 
chanic, earning his eight to ten francs per 
day, which was barely enough to support 
him and his wife and six children. It was 


10 OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 

about all lie could do with strict economy 
to feed and clothe them comfortably. 

Marie Bertrand’s life had been more easy 
than her brother’s. After having been cook 
in the same family for twelve years, and 
saved about four thousand francs, she mar- 
ried a young man who had been a bottler 
for a neighboring wine merchant, a sober, 
steady young fellow, who had also saved a 
few thousand francs. 

After they were married they rented a 
shop near the central market, on a busy 
corner, and established themselves as wine 
dealers. 

The beginning was very difficult for both, 
and customers scarce ; but they managed 
to stay and make both ends meet. After 
a while customers became more frequent. 
Monsieur Martin knew how to serve good 
wine, and his wife, by her cleanliness and 
good temper, retained them. 

At the end of a few years their business 
so prospered that their shop was full of cus- 
tomers all day long. They had enlarged 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


11 


their premises and added a large, commo- 
dious dining-room, furnished with small 
tables, where their guests could have a 
meal if they so desired. Madame Martin 
had not forgotten her old role as cook, and 
now she did the cooking for their guests. 

So at the present epoch, people who know 
the business affairs of the Martins and their 
success, did not hesitate to say that they 
were worth two hundred and fifty thousand 
francs at the lowest estimate. 

Three months before his marriage to Ce- 
line Noirot, before he had even spoken to 
the girl, Mathurin had been sent to Paris 
by his master with a drove of fat beef 
cattle, to be disposed of at the “ Abattoir.” 
Chance threw him into conversation with 
one of the butchers, who asked him casually 
where he came from. Mathurin replied, 
“ Aubecourt.” 

“Oh,” said the butcher, “that is where 
the proprietress of my restaurant comes 
from. She often talks of Aubecourt and 
Ligoux, and says there is no pasture land 


12 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION, \ 


in France equal to it for fattening beeves, 
and if those you have just brought are fair 
specimens, I can quite believe her, for finer 
I never saw.” 

Mathurin paid great attention to all the 
butcher said about Madame Martin, nee Ber- 
trand, and he inquired if the honest couple 
had any children. 

Mathurin returned to Aubecourt with 
this idea in his head, that if Marie Ber- 
trand and her husband had become so rich 
and had no children, why, evidently, their 
niece, Celine Noirot, would certainly inherit 
a part of her aunt’s money. 

Then he rapidly took the resolution to 
marry Celine Noirot, and he did not doubt 
but that it would be a fortunate specula- 
tion. 

As you know, my reader, the good people 
of Aubecourt and Ligoux did not know 
that Marie Bertrand had made a fortune in 
Paris. And our friend Mathurin kept his 
information to himself. 

He pretended that he was tired of a 


OLD II AC LOT'S MILLION. 


13 


bachelor life, that he was deeply smitten 
with Celine Noirot, and when she con- 
sented to be his wife, he did not allow the 
wedding to lag. 

A little house at Aubecourt being for 
sale, he bought it, and what furniture was 
absolutely necessary. A week before the 
wedding, about the time the official banns 
had been published, and he felt sure that 
his prey would not escape him, he spoke 
to Celine about her Aunt Marie, not letting 
her know, however, that she was well off ; 
but he gave her the address of her aunt, 
and advised her to write a nice letter and 
invite her to their wedding. 

Celine wrote as he suggested and re- 
ceived a letter by the return mail. Her 
aunt thanked her for not forgetting to in- 
vite her to the wedding, which invitation 
she accepted with much pleasure, and it 
was also a good opportunity to revisit her 
native place. She also said she was going 
to buy her niece a fine wedding present. 

On the eve of the nuptial day, Mathurin 


14 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


took leave of liis master, where he had 
been servant for eighteen years, and that 
evening took possession of his own house. 

He walked through each room very 
proudly, and cried out with a satisfaction 
mixed with pride : 

“ I am no longer a servant ; I am my 
own master, and a landed proprietor ! ” 

The next day Celine’s aunt arrived for 
the marriage. She had intended to only 
stay three days, but her nephew, Matliurin, 
was so kind and attentive, that she was in- 
duced to stay a week. The good woman 
did not fail to invite her nephew and 
niece to Paris to visit them, as soon as 
they could spare the time. 

Mathurin thanked her cordially, but 
hesitated to promise, and showed so much 
modesty and reserve that he captivated the 
kind woman, so she insisted on his promis- 
ing to come. 

“We will come some time, aunt, I prom- 
ise you,” said Mathurin diffidently. 

The wedding present that Madame Mar- 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


15 


tin gave her niece was very handsome, but 
when she left she had enjoyed herself so 
much that she slipped a bank note of a 
thousand francs into her niece’s hand while 
bidding her farewell. This new mark of 
kindness was highly appreciated by the 
young couple, and Mathurin let no oppor- 
tunity pass to tell people about it, and the 
generosity of his wife’s aunt. 

People understood his enthusiasm, now 
it was no secret in either Aubecourt or 
Ligoux that Marie Bertrand, the once poor 
servant girl, was a rich, prosperous woman. 

“Yes,” they gossiped, “the Martins are 
rich, worth about two hundred and fifty 
thousand francs ; perhaps more.” 

“ And they have no children,” another 
would say. 

“ So Mathurin Raclot’s wife will doubt- 
less inherit a goodly portion.” 

“ For sure, she will have a good slice.” 

“Well, well, there is no denying it was 
a lucky match for Mathurin.” 


II. 


The husband and wife worked like 
negroes under the planter’s lash. No days 
of rest, no holidays. Work, work, work, 
from dawn to dark. 

Matkurin was accustomed to working 
hard, and his constitution had become 
hardened to incessant labor. He expected 
his wife to work as he did, not for one 
moment admitting that she lacked the 
physical strength. 

“ To make money, one must work ? ” he 
would exclaim to his wife. 

After a short space of time he managed 
to mold his wife into a farm drudge, and 
make her as greedy for gain as he was. 
They both had but one object in life — 
that was to be rich. 

When the chance offered they would 
keep on buying another field or a few 

acres of vineyard, even if they had to 
16 


OLD DACLOT'S million. 


\1 


deprive themselves of absolute necessities. 
Cost what it might, — even their life 
blood, — they must be rich. Celine worked 
herself to death, poor woman. 

They worked their own farm between 
times and early in the morning ; but regu- 
larly as the clock struck six, they went 
out to do the work for other farmers as 
day laborers. They never missed a day. 
Besides they were well paid and fed. In 
verity they were never well fed in their 
own house, living on small potatoes, skim- 
milk, black bread, and on Sundays a slice 
of bacon. They also had wine, such as 
was made from the refuse of the wine- 
press. 

During this time Mathurin still loaned 
money at interest. In their home, poverty 
was evidently at home also, for they 
lacked linen and clothing. Mathurin wore 
nothing but rags, pieced by Celine’s 
patient hands. Poor Celine ! Before she 
was married she had, for a peasant, been 
quite dressy. Now she dressed like a beg- 


18 


OLD DA CLOT’S MILLION. 


gar, having only her black cashmere robe 
for Sunday’s mass. 

When she would timidly say to her hus- 
band, “ Matliurin, you must really buy me 
some clothes ! ” he would shrug his shoul- 
ders and reply : 

“ There’s plenty of time. What do we 
need of good clothes to wear out in the 
fields?” 

She, poor woman, would sit up late at 
night, while he slept, to repair the rags 
they wore, doing without her much-needed 
rest to look tidy. She aged rapidly. All 
her youth vanished; lines of care and 
hard work came to her face. Her hair, 
formerly so abundant, fell out, and her 
skin, by constant exposure, became hard 
and tanned. Matliurin always looked the 
same. Hard work to him was joy if there 
was a solid five-franc piece at the end of 
the day’s toil. 

When they had been married about six 
years, Celine brought into the world a 
baby girl, so small and frail that the 


OLD EACLOrS MILLION. 


19 


nurse said it would be a miracle if the 
child lived ; but as she was in the world, 
they would do their best to save her life. 
It would have been a great pity had the 
child died, for she had the most perfect 
face — more like that of an angel than a 
new-born baby, so every one who saw her 
declared. But when the poor mother of- 
fered her breast to the babe, there was 
no milk to feed her on. Celine, worn out 
by privations and hard work, could not 
nourish the child. 

Mathurin was very angry, but said: “We 
will raise her on a bottle.” 

Poor Celine cried to break her heart. 
The nurse spoke up to Mathurin, saying : 
“ I tell you, Mat, it will be impossible to 
raise this child on a bottle, and if you 
wish to save her life you must get a 
healthy wet nurse.” 

The father was very angry now. 

“A wet nurse? Why, I should have to 
pay her at least fifteen francs a month ! ” 

But the nurse insisted, and he had to 


20 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


give in, though with ill grace, to the exi- 
gency of the situation. 

At Aubecourt they found a young woman 
who had just lost her baby, and she gladly 
took the Raclots’ for the fifteen francs. So 
little Martlie was confided to a foster mother. 

A short time after this last event, Mon- 
sieur Martin died. His widow sent for 
Mathurin Raclot at once, for she said she 
needed his services and advice. 

He went immediately to Paris, and put 
on such a doleful look as to cause the 
widow’s tears to start afresh. He even 
managed to squeeze out a few tears himself 
to keep her company. Probably these 
were the first he had ever shed since his 
babyhood. He only stayed three days with 
his wife’s aunt, but he managed to change 
her programme to suit himself. During the 
past six years he had paid most assiduous 
court to Madame Martin, assuming such an 
air of good-natured bonhomie as to com- 
pletely deceive the old lady, and he had 
quite ingratiated himself in her favor. 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


21 


In pretending to have no object but the 
welfare of the widow at heart, he did not 
neglect to watch his own future interest. 

By the will of the deceased Monsieur 
Martin, his wife was his sole heir to all 
real and personal estate. While the widow 
remained in Paris to settle up her affairs 
and invest her money in government bonds 
and first-class mortgages, Mathurin pur- 
chased, in his aunt’s name, a nice house, 
which he had repaired and painted ; the 
grounds were neatly laid out into flower 
and vegetable gardens, and he also had a 
little stable built. Mathurin superintended 
all the details, so it is not to be wondered 
at that the widow held her nephew Raclot 
in great esteem. 

He alone understood how to conduct her 
business affairs, she thought, and she be- 
lieved implicitly in all he told her. Ma- 
thurin was a Delphian oracle to her. She 
was ready to leave Paris on receipt of his 
letter telling her that the house was ready. 
She was going to make her home in Aube- 


22 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


court, forgetting, or trying to forget, that 
she had left a brother in Paris, who soon 
would no longer be able to earn his daily 
bread, and also relatives who were often 
pinched with hunger. These relations were 
just as near to her as Celine Raclot. 

Madame Martin was not a hard-hearted 
woman, but she had so often assisted her 
brother and his numerous family, that per- 
haps she had had her generosity abused ; 
and their frequent demands, had she al- 
ways acceded to them, would have left 
her no better off than they. 

Twelve years passed. 

Thanks to the good care and nursing 
which little Marthe received at the hands 
of her foster mother, she had grown into 
a fine, healthy girl. She was very pretty, 
and her beauty increased with her years. 
Her character was gentle and amiable, and 
she was very tender and affectionate. Her 
great-aunt Marie adored her, and nothing 
gave as much pleasure as to fill Marthe’s 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


23 


pockets up with goodies, and give her 
francs to buy candies for lier playfellows. 
Marthe was so generous that she often 
went without herself to give her friends 
her share. 

“ My ! What a sweet child ! What a 
kind heart she has ! ” Madame Martin 
would exclaim. 

Certainly, Marthe did not resemble her 
father. 

When old enough, she was sent to one 
of the best and most exclusive convent 
schools in the neighboring town. Her 
great-aunt insisted that her niece should be 
well educated. Mathurin did not raise 
any objections, as Madame Martin paid all 
the bills. Marthe had been at school two 
years, and had just received her first com- 
munion, when Madame Martin died. As 
you already know, my readers, Madame 
Martin left all her property to her grand- 
niece Marthe at the death of her mother. 

Jules Bertrand and his family were as- 
tounded, after having lived in hope of 


24 


OLD BAG 1 LOT’S MILLION. 


one day receiving at least some portion of 
lier wealth, to find themselves absolutely 
forgotten ? What could they do or say ? 
They could have disputed the will, but 
on what grounds ? 

The will had beeu drawn up by a first- 
class lawyer, and all was formally and 
legally done. The unfortunate Bertrands 
were disinherited — without a word. They 
could only bow their heads over their lost 
castles in Spain. 

In Aubecourt and Ligoux there were 
some of the better class of peasants indig- 
nant at the duplicity of Mathurin. 

“ It was wrong, very wrong, his making 
the widow Martin leave all to his child, 
when she ought to have divided it and 
given her poor brother half ! ” 

But this was only whispered ; no one 
had the courage to take Mathurin Baclot 
to task, or indeed was it any one’s busi- 
ness, but everybody’s, so no one interfered. 

For a long time, previous to this affair, 
Mathurin had been no longer counted in 


OLD BACLOTS MILLION. 


25 


the odor of sanctity. Several of his trans- 
actions would not have stood the light of 
day, and this last coup quite completed his 
evil reputation. 

He did not care one iota what people 
thought or said. He was in possession of 
the money for which he had so long and 
patiently worked. He was rich now, and 
could laugh at the opinion of his neigh- 
bors. Madame Martin’s two hundred and 
fifty thousand francs in cash made him, as 
he had the use of it, one of the richest 
farmers in the county. 

Two years later his faithful wife died. 

This did not cause him much grief, and 
as his own health was robust, death had 
no terror for him individually, and for his 
consolation he had money; yes, loads of it 
in coin. Hidden in boxes, safes, and old 
bureaus. A woman ! What is that in 
comparison to the possession of gold and 
silver ? Bah ! 

His fortune kept on increasing, and as 
he still retained his love for landed prop- 


26 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


erty, lie bought all he could, not only from 
vanity, but a desire to own more land 
than even the Count Aubecourt. 

He no longer worked, as he had no need 
to. The old farm hand now employed 
laborers. He had worked for others; now 
let them work for him. 

Children, especially female ones, are gen- 
erally curious, and want to know the ins 
and outs of everything, and occasionally 
ask most difficult questions. Marthe felt 
that her father neglected her, but she had 
lots of little friends in school, and the Sis- 
ters all loved her for her amiable char- 
acter, and this consoled her for her father’s 
coldness. 

She was one of the best pupils in the 
school. Her education had been carefully 
attended to, and she had profited by it. 
She spoke English, Italian, and German 
fluently. She was a fine musician and 
sang like a bird. At the age of sixteen 
and a half she graduated with the highest 
honors, receiving her diploma as teacher. 


OLD RACLOT’ S MILLION. 27 

Though very avaricious, Pere Raclot 
was, as we have said, vaiu and proud of 
his present position. He found the house 
of Madame Martin not fine enough for 
him, so he decided to purchase the old 
Chateau d’Aubecourt, and have it remod- 
eled and put into habitable condition. He 
bought it cheap, almost for a song. 

A few years before, he had made up 
his mind to have a million. He had it. 
And now people took off their hats and 
called him Monsieur Raclot ! 

Marthe was just eighteen, when her 
father summoned her to come and act as 
chatelaine of the Chateau of Aubecourt. 


III. 


Mathukest Raclot had enriched himself, 
not through any honest scheme, but 
through the wants and miseries of his 
fellow-men. It is true he had a million, 
but that million was earned through the 
tears and anguish of many an honest 
heart. What regard had he for his fel- 
low creatures when he wanted a farm or 
a vineyard ? Now that people recognized 
him in his right colors, he was not 
quoted as a model, by any means, but a 
villain, whom no one loved or respected. 
He w^as cursed, sotto voce , on all sides ; but 
the very people who denounced his meth- 
ods of getting rich, would humbly bow 
to Monsieur Raclot and say: “ Bon jour. 
Monsieur Raclot ” ; or, “ Bonsoir, Monsieur 
Raclot ! ” 

Oh, riches ! Before the possession of 
28 


OLD RACL0T8 MILLION. 


29 


wealth, men bow and become sycophants 
and curs ! 

Until his daughter came, Monsieur lived 
alone in the chateau, like a bear in his 
hole. He was not on social terms with 
his neighbors, nor did he visit any one. 
He was quite content to sit at the kitchen 
window, and gaze over his possessions, 
and the fat cattle he had in the home 
meadows ; and he would chuckle as he 
muttered, “ It’s all mine, mine, mine ! ” 

Marthe’s arrival made a little bustle 
and life, and the house became almost 
gay. The young girl knew that her 
father was rich, but she had no idea of 
the size of his fortune, or dream how it 
had been made; nor did she know that 
her father was execrated in the village. 
She was the same as when she left home; 
neither vain, proud, nor giddy. She was 
astonished at the cool reception that she 
received in her native place. Her heart 
was heavy when she saw how her old 
playmates avoided her, as though afraid 


30 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


to look or speak. When slie made her 
first advance to her girl friends of her 
own age and quondam playfellows, she 
remarked that they timidly replied to her 
salutations, as if afraid. What could it 
mean ? Marthe felt ready to like every 
one, and felt hurt at this strange recep- 
tion. Many times tears would come un- 
bidden to her eyes when she saw herself 
so badly welcomed. One woman alone 
greeted her with her usual affection and 
tenderness, as in the bygone days. This 
was her foster mother. She did not hesi- 
tate to take Marthe to her breast and kiss 
her fervently, as of yore. When with her 
old nurse, whom she still called “mam- 
ma,” she would tell her of the petty 
slights she daily received. The nurse 
was very much embarrassed at the ques- 
tions Marthe put to her, not daring to 
say that * she was included in the hatred 
that the villagers had for her father. 

“You see, my pet,” the nurse would 
say, “it’s because you have been brought 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


31 


up like a young lady, and are so fine a 
miss that your old friends are afraid to 
speak to you.” 

“ But,” replied Martlie, “ I always speak 
to them, and want to shake hands or 
kiss them, as the case may be.” 

“ That makes no difference. They realize 
the immense distance that separates you, and 
they are afraid to permit themselves to be 
familiar.” 

Marthe hung her head and sighed. The 
dear old nurse took her on her lap and 
kissed her devotedly, and said to herself : 
“ If they only knew my darling ! ” 

Among her young friends at school there 
was one with whom Marthe was quite inti- 
mate. This was Mademoiselle Mathilde de 
Santenay, the only daughter of a general now 
on half pay. She was about the same age as 
Mademoiselle Raclot. These two girls loved 
each other dearly; more like twin sisters 
than anything else. General Santenay was a 
widower and lived five miles from the town ; 
not in a magnificent chateau like Mathurin 


32 


OLD RAC LOT’S MILLION. 


Baclot, but a plain house. Monsieur de 
Santenay had only a small income besides 
his half pay, and he had never been able to 
save, as the expense of educating his son 
and daughter had been great. His son 
was now a young man of twenty-six years of 
age. He was a civil engineer and held a 
good position under the government, with 
bright prospects of advancement, as he was a 
favorite with the chief of his Department. 

The general did not begrudge the sacri- 
fices he had made to educate his son, for 
the young man was all that a devoted parent 
could desire. George de Santenay had a 
good position and his future was assured. 

Besides the old general was not at all 
uneasy on that score either for George or 
Mathilde’s future, for his dear wife’s sister 
was an old maid and possessed a large for- 
tune. This old lady, after having been 
Court dressmaker to Louis XVIII’s court, 
and amassed a fortune, sold her business and 
had come to live in a neighboring village 
where she had purchased a splendid prop- 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 33 

erty. Mademoiselle Lormeau was her name, 
and the only blood relations she had were the 
children of her deceased sister, and she had 
made them her heirs and declared that when 
either of them married she would settle two 
hundred thousand francs on each of them. 
Thinking that it would be more beneficial 
to give the money when it was most needed, 
and that they might not wish for her demise 
so that they would inherit her fortune. 

Marthe had often seen George when he 
would call to see his sister at the convent, 
and she had been introduced to him, and 
when they were allowed to take a walk in 
the convent grounds, as on fete days, George 
often accompanied Mathilde and Marthe. 
They had often met also at Mathilde’s home. 
General de Santenay knew that his daugh- 
ter’s friend never left school even during the 
summer vacation or at Easter. He felt pity 
for Marthe’s solitude and the semi-cloistered 
life she led, and he asked the Reverend 
Mother to allow Mademoiselle Raclot to ac- 
company his daughter when she went out. 


34 


OLD DACLOrS MILLION. 


The nuns asked Mathurin Kaclot’s per- 
mission. He replied that he thanked the 
general and Mademoiselle de Santenay for 
their interest in his daughter, and he gladly 
accepted the invitation they extended for 
her to visit them during the summer vaca- 
tion. This reply was impatiently awaited, 
and received with great joy by the two girls. 

From this day forward, Marthe’s life was 
less dull, and she often visited at the gen- 
eral’s house. He received her like another 
daughter, and Marthe felt entirely at home 
with this charming family. 

Mathilde left the convent a year before 
Marthe, but still their friendship for each 
other in no way diminished. On holidays 
and religious fete days, Mathilde would 
come and fetch Marthe to spend the day 
with her. Through these frequent visits, 
Marthe and the young engineer became 
well acquainted, as each time Marthe was 
expected Mathilde would manage to let 
her brother know, so that he could be of 
the party. 


OLD RAOLOT'S MILLION. 


35 


Must we tell our readers that George 
was not insensible to the radiant beauty 
and lovely disposition of his sister’s friend. 
For the past year, Love, the love of youth 
and the hope of making her his wife, had 
consumed him. He only lived for Marthe, 
and for her he would have gladly given 
his life. 

Hot daring to speak to the young girl 
of the love she had inspired in his 
breast, fearing also that she would refuse 
to listen and spurn his love, he kept his 
secret buried in his own heart as a pre- 
cious jewel. & . ) 

When he heard that Marthe Raclot was 
going to leave the convent, he imagined 
perhaps that lie would not see her again, 
and knowing that she was old enough to 
be married, he thought that perhaps her 
father had already a husband in view for 
her. This thought gave him so much pain 
that he decided to do away with his re- 
serve and speak. Nervous and frightened, 
as all real love is apt to be, he had not 


36 


OLD 11 AC LOT’S MILLION. 


tlie courage to speak to Martlie direct, to 
tell lier that lie loved and adored her, so 
lie took his sister into his confidence, 
and begged her to find out if he might 
hope. 

“ Va ! mon cher frere” replied Matliilde, 
laughing, “ I have guessed your secret a 
long time, and I am of the opinion that 
papa also thinks as I do. You betrayed 
yourself when you requested me to tell 
you always when Martlie was expected to 
visit us. To-day I will interrogate Martlie, 
and I am sure she will answer me can- 
didly, for she cannot stoop to subterfuge; 
she is too good. My brother, if she does 
love you, I shall be so happy ! I want 
nothing better than to see my dearest 
friend transformed into a beloved sister. 
I am sure she must love you ! If she pos- 
sesses such qualities as to inspire your 
love, you have enough to make her love 
you too ! ” 

George spoke to his sister early in the 
morning, before breakfast. In the after- 


OLD R ALLOTS MILLION. 


3*7 

noon the two girls went for a walk, and 
Mathilde suggested that they make a tour 
among the rose bushes. 

“ Marthe,” said Mathilde, when they were 
in a quiet spot, “ I have a secret to tell 
you.” 

“Well, dear, I am all attention.” 

“ With you, Marthe, it’s no use my 
beating about the bush, so I am going to 
speak openly and plainly. Now, Marthe, 
my brother opened his heart to me this 
morning. His heart is burning with ar- 
dent love for you.” 

Marthe became scarlet and trembled vio- 
lently. 

“ I must say,” continued Mathilde, “ that 
George has loved you for over a year, and 
until to-day he has hidden his secret, as 
though it was a crime to love you, my 
dearest and best friend.” 

Marthe placed her hand on her heart to 
stop its beating, and looked at Mathilde 
joyfully. 

“ Now, Marthe,” said Mathilde, “ what 


38 


OLD RA0L0T8 MILLION. 


reply shall I make to George? Shall I 
bring him happiness or sorrow?” 

Marthe tried to speak, but her voice 
trembled with the violence of her emo- 
tion ; her eyes shown with a light of per- 
fect love, and she threw her arms around 
Mathilde’s neck and whispered in her ear: 

“ Mathilde ! I love your brother ! ” 

Mademoiselle de Santenay could not re- 
strain her joy at this avowal. 

“ Ah ! you will be my dear sister ! ” 

Then they both cried and kissed each 
other. What tears of joy they shed ! 

Later, when his happiness was made 
known to him, George told his sister that 
had she brought him bad news he would 
have killed himself. 

That afternoon the general was told the 
state of affairs. 

“ I am delighted ! ” said the old soldier. 
“I greatly appreciate the good equalities of 
Mademoiselle Raclot, and I know her value. 
George could not have selected any one 
more pleasing to me. But there is Mon- 


OLD n AC LOT’S MILLION. 


39 


sieur Raclot to be considered. He knows 
nothing as yet, and he might have other 
prospects in view for his daughter. How- 
ever, until everything is arranged definitely 
one way or the other •” 

“ Happily, she has only a short time 
longer to remain in school,” interrupted 
Mathilde. 

“Very well, daughter, when Mademoi- 
selle Marthe is under her father’s roof, I 
am sure he will invite us to visit him, 
and we will all go. And if he has not 
already been informed that George and 
Marthe are lovers, I shall inform him and 
respectfully ask his daughter’s hand for 
my son. So, until then, we will let the 
matter rest.” 

Both George and Mathilde approved of 
their father’s wise plan of action. Mar- 
the had not been invited to assist at this 
conversation, but Mathilde took good care 
to tell her all about it. 


IV. 


Le Peke Kaclot loved nothing but 
money, so we need not wonder at liis lack 
of affection for his daughter ; nevertheless 
he treated her very kindly, and had an 
immense amount of pride in her personal 
appearance and cleverness. Ignorant as he 
was, he appreciated her learning, and re- 
garded her as a superior being. Martlie 
had been well brought up, and it flattered 
his vanity to be the father of a real young 
lady, not a peasant wench. Though very 
stingy toward the whole world, to Martlie 
he refused nothing. She did not nsk for 
any large expenditure either on her amuse- 
ment or clothes ; modest in both tastes and 
dress, used to the utmost simplicity in the 
convent, she asked for no more, now that 
she was chatelaine of the Chateau d’Aube- 
court. In a small country village there was 
no occasion for either dress or style. 

40 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


41 


The father was delighted to see that his 
daughter was very much more economical 
than he had expected. One day, having 
realized more than he anticipated on a sale 
of cattle, he bought Marthe three thousand 
francs’ worth of jewelry. This was a most 
unheard-of extravagance. 

The girl thanked her father with aston- 
ishment, mingled with gratitude. Now she 
could replace the earrings she had always 
worn since her first communion, costing at 
the outside twenty-five francs, with a pair 
of solitaires worth two thousand. And 
for the first time in her life she had a 
bracelet and a finger ring. Ill-natured folk 
said that her father only gave her the 
jewels for pride’s sake, not because he 
loved her. Marthe knew it perfectly 
well — she felt it — that this mark of pater- 
nal regard was not caused through love. 
She knew that he did not love her. It 
pained her sensitive heart to see that all 
her love was wasted on her father, and he 
only responded briefly to her caresses. 


42 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


She wondered if she could melt this glacial 
heart by the warmth of her affection. 
That delightful intimacy which ought to 
exist between father and child was miss- 
ing here. During the two months that 
she had been home, she had not found the 
courage to tell her father of her love for 
George de Santenay, and that she was be- 
loved in return. 

One morning, after talking of the gen- 
eral and his family, and their extreme kind- 
ness to her, she told her father that the 
least they could do would be to invite the 
Santenay family to visit them for a few 
days at the chateau. 

At first Monsieur Raclot did not attempt 
to hide his dislike to her proposition, but 
Marthe insisted, and tears came to her 
lovely eyes. To see his daughter in tears 
did not affect Monsieur Raclot, but when 
she suggested that it would look well for 
him to be on terms of intimacy with a 
general and his family, why, Mathurin 
succumbed at once. 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


43 


The invitation was sent, and impatiently 
Marthe awaited the reply. 

A few days later, the general, with his 
son and daughter, arrived at the chateau. 

It is useless for us to attempt to describe 
the joyful reunion of the young people. 
The two girls seemed never tired of kissing 
each other, to George’s disgust. 

It is true the old peasant was completely 
under his daughter’s directions, and he acted 
the seigneur to perfection. Still, he was a 
peasant, and no one could expect more than 
he was able to do. 

The Santenays came on a three days’ visit. 
The first day passed delightfully. As they 
had never visited the chateau before, Marthe 
took them all over both the ancient and 
modern parts, even to the feudal keep, 
where her father’s pigs now lived. Ma- 
thilde discreetly went ahead to allow George 
and Marthe to talk without the embarrass- 
ment of a third party. 

Monsieur Raclot, swelled with importance, 
like the frog of JEsop’s Fables, showed the 


44 


OLD RACLOT' 8 MILLION. 


general all liis property, — fields and vine- 
yards, — and under the pretense of showing 
his other farms where the cattle were, he 
walked the Santenays through the main 
street of the village, where the red button 
in the general’s coat would show how illus- 
trious his guests were. If he could only 
have had the general in his full uniform ! 
How proud he would have been ! 

On the next day, after breakfast, while 
George and the two girls were walking in 
the park, the general remained alone with 
Pere Raclot. He thought it was a good 
opportunity to broach the subject of mar- 
riage. 

“ Cher Monsieur Raclot,” he said, “ do you 
know that my son George is a civil engineer 
engaged on government pontoon bridges, 
and it’s not my place as his father to speak 
of his excellent qualities, but I can truthfully 
repeat what his chief says, that in a short 
space of time he will be in a fine position.” 

“Very gratifying to you, sir,” replied 
Monsieur Raclot. 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


45 


“ Eh Men, Monsieur Raclot, I am going to 
tell you something that I hope will not dis- 
please you.” 

The peasant showed that he was all 
attention. 

“ My son,” continued the general, “ loves 
your daughter, and he will consider himself 
one of the most fortunate of individuals if 
you will accept him as your future son-in- 
law.” 

Mathurin remained dumb. He had never 
given a thought that some day his daugh- 
ter’s hand would be asked in marriage, and 
that he would be obliged to divide his im- 
mense fortune with her, besides rendering 
an account of his stewardship. 

“ Your pardon, General,” he murmured. 
“ What have you just said to me ? I am 
astounded ! — I had not expected any offers 
for my daughter’s hand yet. You say your 
son, Monsieur George de Santenay, loves my 
girl. I don’t understand such an honor for 
her — and me, I am only a poor peasant ! 
But I do not thiuk my child has any idea 


46 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


of getting married. You must understand a 
fond parent’s anxiety regarding the welfare 
of liis only child, Monsieur le General, and I 
am in no haste to part with my beloved 
child Marthe ; besides, she is too young ; 
and if I comprehend what marriage ought 
to signify, it means love on both sides.” 

“ Your way of thinking is mine, Mon- 
sieur Raclot.” 

“ That is satisfactory.” 

“Yes, we are both of the same opinion.” 

“ How is that ? ” 

“Easily explained. George de Santenay 
loves Marthe Raclot, and Marthe Raclot 
loves George de Santenay.” 

Mathurin Raclot opened his eyes with 
astonishment, and his forehead wrinkled 
with an angry frown. 

“ And you see, my dear sir,” continued 
the general, “we have but to agree to the 
terms to make two young people very 
happy.” 

A look of innocent candor illumined the 
face of Pere Raclot. 


OLD RAOLOT'S MILLION. 


47 


u Ah ! so you tli ink perhaps that I am 
very rich?” he asked in a singular way, 
laying stress on the word rich. 

This was an insulting question to the 
honest general. His face flushed at the 
implied insult, and he quickly saw what 
kind of a man he had to deal with. 

“ Monsieur Raclot,” replied he, with calm 
voice, “ neither my son nor I have ever 
troubled ourselves to inquire whether you 
are rich or not; or if your daughter will 
have any dowry, large or small. We con- 
sider that the question of money is only 
a secondary consideration in a union of 
hearts. We — I can speak for both my; son 
and myself — have no mercenary object in 
view in this marriage ; we wish it to be a 
love match.” 

“ Hum, hum,” said Pere Racot doubt- 
ingly. 

“ My son,” continued the general, “ only 
sees the amiable and virtuous character of 
Mademoiselle Raclot, and had she not one 
copper sou for her dowry, he would 


48 


OLD DA CLOT’S MILLION. 


gladly marry her, recognizing her superior 
merit to any money worth.” 

“ Alor , General,” said the old peasant, 

“ we will put the question of money 
aside,” and Pere Raclot allowed himself 
to laugh. 

“ I must not hide from you the fact 
that I am a poor man, with only a small 
income beside my half pay,” continued the 
general; “and my son has not the right 
to require a dowry with his wife, as he 
has no fortune, save that his mother’s sis- 
ter has promised to give him two hundred 
thousand francs on his wedding day.” 

“So, so,” said Pere Raclot. 

“With the interest of this sum and his 
salary, my son is in a good enough posi- 
tion to marry, and he can consider his 
heart before his purse, and feel sure that 
his wife will lack for nothing; and if you 
will consider how dearly we love Made- 
moiselle Marthe, you will find these good 
and sufficient reasons not to refuse your 
consent to their union.” 


OLD RAC LOT' 8 MILLION. 49 

Raclot liad by this time recovered his 
self-possession, and assumed the honest, 
open-hearted peasant, a role he acted to 
perfection. Since these people did not 
care about money, or desire a money 
dowry, why he was perfectly content to 
give them his daughter, as he began to 
realize that sooner or later she would have 
to marry. And perhaps later, if he re- 
fused this chance, the next one might 
want half his fortune ; also an accounting 
of his guardianship of her aunt’s legacy, 
which he began to think was his own. 

“Ah, General, you soldiers are so per- 
suasive that poor ignorant peasants like 
myself cannot resist your coaxing tongue ! 
Really, really, you have overcome all my 
objections. As you perceive, I had not 
thought of marriage for my girl yet. So 
my child loves your son, and she has 
never breathed a word of it to me — the 
sly puss ! I have nothing to say against 
it since it’s a love affair, although I did 
not expect or care to have her marry so 


50 


OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION. 


soon. And your conduct, General, lias so 
impressed me with the respectability of 
your family, and the high esteem in which 
my child is held by you all, I give in.” 

“ Merci , Monsieur Raclot ! ” 

“Still, General, there is one more ques- 
tion to settle which we must thoroughly 
understand.” 

“What is that? I am all attention.” 

“ I mean about the settlement of dowry.” 
“I thought you understood that we do 
not ask for dowry. Neither my son nor I 
care whether Marthe has a sou or not ! ” 
“Yes, yes, you have told me all that. 
Still — it’s true, General, that I cannot give 
my daughter much, as money is scarce 
among us peasants, very scarce. You know 
that I have some valuable property, as you 
have seen my farms and houses; but if 
I had to sell them at a forced sale, what 
would they fetch? Nothing, absolutely 
nothing. And at my death Marthe will 
have all the property, as she is my only 
child. And, General, your kindness calls 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


51 


for some effort on my part, and I am a 
candid man. Though it will cost me my 
utmost efforts, I will try and get fifty 
thousand francs, if your son will accept 
that for Marthe’s dowry.” 

“ I thought I told you two or three 
times, Monsieur Raclot, that we do not 
ask a dower ; all we desire is the hand 
of Marthe Raclot ! ” 

“ Stop, there, General. I said fifty thou- 
sand francs. Though I am a peasant, I have 
some self-respect, and will not allow my 
daughter to go empty-handed to her husband.” 

“Very well, sir; let us consider this 
matter settled.” 

“ Settled, yes ; I will give my daughter 
fifty thousand francs, and you will prom- 
ise me, both in your son’s name and your 
own, that you will not compel me to sell 
my land later on ? ” 

“Why should we compel you to sell 
your land?” 

“ Because, as I am my daughter’s guar- 
dian, her husband might force me!” 


52 


OLD RACLOT'8 milliM. 


“Ah, to show your accounts as guar- 
dian ! Do not let that render you uneasy, 
my dear sir; my son will never ask yoti 
for an accounting.” 

, “ You promise ! ” 

“I will swear it if you doubt my word, 
sir!” 

“ Thank you, General ! Ah, if you 
only knew the horror I have for frauds 
and cheats ! If I imagined that I should 
ever quarrel with my son-in-law over 
money, it would kill me ! ” 

“You will live till you are a hundred,” 
replied the old officer laughingly. 

“Yes, every one says I shall live to a 
great age.” 

The general arose. 

“Monsieur Raclot, I will leave you, as 
I want to find the young folks and tell 
them the joyful news that you consent to 
their union.” 

“And add that they can be married in 
a month if they desire to be.” 

“ I am sure they will ask nothing better ! ” 


V. 


George and Marthe were betrothed. 
The two families were delighted. In their 
new found happiness the whole world 
looked bright and beautiful. There was 
no cloud to mar the brightness of their 
horizon. 

In the village, every one was discussing 
the betrothal of Marthe Raclot to the son 
of a general in the army. 

How did the news get around that 
George de Santenay’s rich maiden aunt 
was going to give him two hundred 
thousand francs for a wedding present ? 
Every one evidently knew it, as the whole 
village talked about it. 

Mademoiselle Lormeau had been con- 
sulted about this marriage, as she knew 
and loved Marthe Raclot. 

The marriage was arranged for the fol- 

53 


54 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


lowing month, and the banns had been 
read once in the parish church. 

Twice a week George de Santenay came 
to Aubecourt to see his betrothed. What 
delightful times the lovers passed together ! 
The confidential talks, the magnificent pro- 
jects they made for their future ! No 
more doubts on either side. They were 
soon to be married, and George even 
dared to kiss Marthe’s peach-like cheek 
before Pere Raclot. And even Mathurin, 
who never smiled, was seen to do so oc- 
casionally. 

But still, he had to take fifty thousand 
francs in gold and silver out of his safe. 
Fifty thousand francs, for a miser, is an 
enormous sum. It made him weep tears 
of genuine sorrow to part with his pre- 
cious gold, but he had to make this 
dolorous sacrifice. Luckily, Raclot did not 
have two daughters to dower. 

Also, they had not asked for an inven- 
tory of Marthe’s possessions and his ac- 
counts as guardian. Really, the De San- 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


55 


tenay’s were most generous, disinterested 
people. If lie had not been one of the 
party he ivould have called them idiots; 
but since it was for his benefit, why they 
were generous, honest gentlemen. 

Besides, his own child had no idea of 
the true extent of his wealth. Since he 
was obliged on his honor to give his 
daughter fifty thousand francs dowry, he 
would make no attempt to keep it, and 
he thought he got off cheap, as his daugh- 
ter had a right to ten times that sum 
and he could easily replace the small void 
in his safe in six or seven months. 

One morning, soon after the events de- 
scribed, Marthe took the stage to town. 
She wished to visit her old teacher^, the 
nuns, and inform them of her happiness; 
and she also hoped to be able to coax 
the Reverend Mother to permit two of 
the Sisters to be at her wedding; Sister 
Angela and her old English instructress, 
Sophie. She did not dare to ask for 


56 OLD LAO LOT'S MILLION, 

more than two, as the rules which govern 
the Ursulines are strict, especially regard- 
ing such mundane amusements as weddings. 

She did not have to beg very hard, as 
the Reverend Mother, after kissing her ten- 
derly, said : 

“ My dear daughter, you were always 
our favorite pupil, the pet of the commu- 
nity and a model scholar. I am very pleased 
to see that you reciprocate the love we 
bear you, and that your first visit as a fian- 
cee is made to us; and the request you 
make, asking me to allow two of your 
teachers to assist at your espousals. My 
dear Marthe, these two sisters have seen 
you grow up to womanhood. They shall, 
at your request, be at your marriage. I 
will nqt refuse you this mark of our high 
esteem and affection. Sisters Angela and 
Sophie .shall leave here early on your wed- 
ding day so as to be in time for the nup- 
tial mass, and I am sure they will pray to 
our Blessed Lord for your future happi- 
ness and welfare through life.” 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


57 


Marthe thanked the kind nun gratefully, 
and after saying adieu to the rest of the 
Sisters, she left the convent to go to the 
stage office, where her messenger was to 
await her with her packages and a trunk 
full of wedding finery. She found him 
there, and the trunk strapped on behind. 
They were only waiting for her so they 
could start on their return to Aubecourt. 

“ Have I detained you ? ” asked Marthe. 

“ A few minutes, Mademoiselle. That is 
all.” 

“ Shall I be alone, as I was coming this 
morning, in the stage ? ” 

“ No, you will have company.” 

“ Ladies ? ” 

“No, two men. One of them goes to 
Aubecourt.” 

“ So I suppose he is a resident there ? ” 

“He was, Mademoiselle, but he has left 
the place for the past three years.” 

“Ah!” 

“He was a well-to-do farmer, but, like 
many others, he has been unfortunate, and 


58 


OLD RAOLOT'S MILLION. 


all he possessed was sold, so the poor man 
had to leave Aubecourt with his wife and 
live children. I have no idea what he is 
doing at present ; but as you know, I dare 
say, Mademoiselle, 4 poverty is no crime.’ 
Ah, here are your fellow travelers* Get 
in, Mademoiselle, and take the most com- 
fortable seat in the right hand corner. 
Wrap yourself up well in the lap robe, as 
these evenings get quite cool after sundown.” 

“Yes, thank you, I will, for the wind 
feels very chilly.” 

The girl took the place indicated by the 
driver in the corner. 

“ Here, Mademoiselle, put my lambskin 
cushion under your feet.” 

Marthe wrapped herself up and nestled 
up in her corner. 

The two men were coming slowly toward 
the stage, when the driver called out : 

“A little faster, gentlemen, as I am be- 
hind schedule time already.” 

These men entered and sat down with- 
out taking any notice of the young girl, 


OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION . 


59 


who looked very small and quiet in her 
place. They could not see if she was 
young or old through her thick veil. 

The driver shut the door after collect- 
ing the fares, untied his horses, got on 
his seat, cracked his whip and lightly 
touched up his good, willing horses, and 
they were off in a trot over the uneven 
street of the little town. 

In the stage the two men w r ere gos- 
siping on the topics of the day. 

Marthe did not know either of them. 

“Apropos,” said one of them, who an- 
swered to the name of “Collot,” to his 
companion whom he called “ Stanislaus,” 
“do you know that the daughter of that 
old villain Mathurin Eaclot is going to 
be married ? ” 

“ Ah, the old wretch ! the old thief ! 
So he is going to marry his daughter! 
Is it possible that there is any young 
man so devoid of decency as to wed the 
daughter of that old thief ? ” 

On hearing these words Marthe felt her- 


60 


OLD RACLOT'8 MILLION. 


self stunned. She lost her breath. Then 
she felt so incensed that she was going 
to make herself known to the two men 
who spoke so insultingly of her father. 
But strength failed her. She was trem- 
bling, tears came to her eyes, and her 
throat swelled so that she could not utter 
one word. A deep sigh escaped her, and 
she felt as if she were going to faint. 

“ I have nothing to say against his 
daughter,” continued Stanislaus, “ as I do 
not know her. Her father has always 
kept her at school in town to make a 
lady of her. I bet it did not cost him 
much, as nothing is dear when other 
folks’ money pays for it.” 

“ When she was a child Marthe was a 
very pretty girl, and I am sure she must 
be different to that old gredin of a 
father.” 

“ Who is she going to marry ? ” 

“ A Monsieur George de Santenay.” 

“ Bigre , a gentleman ! ” 

“ Monsieur George is one of the engi* 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


61 


neers on our new bridge. His father is 
a brave, honest general on half pay, and 
a thoroughly good man.” 

“ What a fine match ! for Raclot to 
marry his daughter so well; I will wager 
he will give her, for her dowry, half the 
money he has stolen from the poor. His 
money would burn honest folks’ hands. 
If he will only die now. But there is 
no fear of that. The devil takes care of 
his own! And it’s a true saying to-day, 
for look how the wicked prosper.” 

Poor Marthe listened, scarlet with shame. 

“ C'est egal ,” continued the ruthless 
Stanislaus, “that this Monsieur George is 
no better than his future father-in-law. 
Honest folk don’t meddle with stolen 
money, and don’t marry the children of 
such old rascals as Mathurin Raclot is. 
But to-day the cry is money ! No in- 
quiries how it was got. Make money, is 
the motto, and Raclot’s son-in-law but 
echoes the popular cry. It’s a pity, but 
it’s so. 


62 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


“ Mathurin Raclot is wealthy ; liis daugh- 
ter wdll be rich; we shall see her living in 
the midst of luxury, paid for by the suffer- 
ing and tears of the widows and orphans 
whom her father has ruined. And when 
she has all she can crave, — servants, horses, 
carriages, magnificent jewels and toilets, the 
most exquisite viands, — my wife and chil- 
dren, half perished with cold and hunger, 
will be begging a dry crust from door to 
door ! ” 

“ You are right, friend Stanislaus, in 
what you say. Unfortunately you are not 
the only sufferer who owes his misery to 
Mathurin’s acquaintance.” 

“No, I am not the only one by a dozen 
or more. There is Moriset, Samirals, the 
Mougins, and Langlois, and the orphan 
children of Charbonet, and the poor wddow 
Lambert, and many others whose names 
I forbear to mention. He first owned a 
few acres, then he must have a few more; 
then more and more to make his large 
farm at Noues. He foreclosed on the 


OLD RAGLOT'S MILLION. 


63 


Cliarbonet children directly their father 
died; also mine, and several small farms 
where the owners could not pay his usu- 
rious interest. He pursued us, whip and 
net in hand, to trip the unwary. Poor un- 
fortunates, who fall into his rapacious 
maw ! I sincerely pity them ! For Ma- 
thurin Raclot’s justice is not tempered 
with mercy. He has the patience of a 
cat watching a mouse hole, but let him 
catch his prey, and he will rend it in 
pieces like a wild beast. That farm where 
he was a plowman at Courants’ is his 
now. What a magnificent farm it is ! 
Poor widow Lambert ! he ought to have 
treated her kindly, as she is the widow of 
his old master’s son. To-day, poor woman, 
she has not a second gown to wear. 

“ And the miserable usurer has man- 
aged to buy the chateau and grounds at 
Aubecourt, and I hear that there are some 
people who actually call him Monsieur 
Raclot! Tonnerre! It almost makes me 
believe that there can be no God, when 


64 


OLD RAC LOT’S MILLION. 


such rascality flourishes. Do you know, 
Collot, that I left the village to prevent 
my neck being broken on the guillotine, 
for if I had stayed any longer I should 
have loaded my gun with ball, and a 
double charge of powder, as if I were 
going wolf-hunting, and there, behind 
some thick hedge, I would have laid in 
wait for this human wolf and shot him 
down, sending his soul to his master, the 
devil.” 

“ Alor, my dear Stanislaus, it’s a good 
thing for you that you left ! ” 

“ Yes, but there are many of his vic- 
tims crying for vengeance. There was 
Celine Noirot, his wife. She was a nice, 
modest girl. God alone knows the mar- 
tyrdom she endured with that man. "Why, 
he never gave her enough bread to eat!” 

“You are right; he starved her almost 
to death ! ” 

“ The notary, Poncelet, does any one 
know what has become of him ? ” 

“It’s said he lives in Paris. He is cer- 


OLD R A CLODS MILLION. 


65 


tainly rich enough after having assisted 
Raclot as he did in all his nefarious 
schemes. He is another wretch who 
ought to be in the galleys. But there is 
no justice for such as these. How long is 
it since the old notary sold his practice?” 

“ About two years.” 

“ Ho people like the new lawyer ? ” 

“Very much. He is a young man of 
about thirty, of a very respectable family. 
He was a law student in the College in 
Paris. He is clever and honorable in his 
legal transactions, and tries to do his very 
best for all his clients.” 

“So much the better.” 

Then the two men changed the topic 
of conversation. 

You can guess how Marthe felt when 
Stanislaus got through with his recital. 
Poor girl! she wished she was dead. 

At Rancourt, the village this side of 
Aubecourt, the man who was called Col- 
lot got out of the stage. Rancourt was 
his home. 


66 


OLD DAO LOT’S MILLION. 


When the carriage moved on, Stanislaus 
eyed his solitary companion. 

“ Madame, or Mademoiselle, we shall no 
doubt have each other’s company as far as 
Aubecourt. Are you from there, Ma- 
dame?” 

The young girl made no reply, and her 
head hung down so that her chin rested 
on her chest, and the closed eyes led her 
fellow traveler to think that she was 
asleep. He stretched himself and settled 
likewise for a nap, which is the best thing 
to do when one has a silent companion. 
As soon as the stage reached the outskirts 
of Aubecourt, Martlie hailed the driver 
and asked him to stop so that she could 
get out. She descended in haste and 
quickly gained a short by-way toward her 
own home. 

“ Who was the lady that got out ? ” 
Stanislaus asked the driver. 

“ First, she is not a married lady, but 
only a miss. Don’t you know who she 


OLD RAG LOT' 8 MILLION. 


67 


“ No, I do not remember having seen 
her anywhere, . and her veil was so thick I 
could not see her face. Is she from Aube- 
court ? ” 

“ Why, certainly ! she is a native of 
Aubecourt. She is Mademoiselle Marthe 
Raclot.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried the man, looking over the 
stage. Then in a husky voice he mur- 
mured between his teeth : “ It can’t be 

helped, and I but spoke the truth anyway, 
and my conscience does not reproach me 
for having maligned that old scamp one 
jot more than he deserved.” 

When Marthe reached home it was 
almost dark. Her father was waiting 
dinner for her. He saw that something 
had happened to disturb her, but he did 
not take the trouble to inquire what it 
was. 

Marthe forced herself to eat a few 
mouthfuls, and pleaded, as an excuse for 
her poor appetite, that she was too tired 
to eat. She said good-night to her father, 


68 OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 

and went to her own room, anxious to be 
alone. There she could give way to her 
tears, and she sobbed bitterly, poor child ! 
She was ashamed, grieved, and her heart 
was broken. There was no one she could 
confide in or ask for counsel. Neither 
friend or relative; only God could help 
her now. Her life was to be rendered 
wretched forever, and she felt as though 
death alone could release her. All her 
brilliant future had vanished. Good-by 
to love ! Good-by pleasure ! Good-by all ! 

With bruised body and crushed heart 
Marthe retired. She slept a few moments 
of troubled sleep, disturbed with awful 
dreams. Around the chateau she saw a 
crowd of poor miserable wretches. There 
were women, children, and old people. 
They were all dressed in rags, and their 
pitiful faces showed how misery and starva- 
tion had worked on them the stigma of 
poverty. They cried in chorus : 

“ We are starving! Give us bread, give 
us bread, or we perish ! ” 


OLD RAOLOT'S MILLION. 


69 


All of the crowd turned toward the cha- 
teau, and hurled these words, as if to crush 
the pile of stones by the loudness of their 
cries : 

“ Mathurin Raclot be accursed ! be ac- 
cursed forever ! ” 


VI. 


When the faint light of dawn illumined 
the early morning sky, Marthe arose and 
dressed herself. Her father was, as his 
usual custom, already up an hour before 
daybreak, 9 and she could see him through 
her window, walking over to his cow-yard. 
Marthe also went out, but her steps were 
toward the humble cottage of her foster 
mother. Her face was white, with red lines 
around her eyes, which were swollen by the 
poignancy of her grief and her tears. 

Her foster mother was very much alarmed 
when she saw her. 

“ Marthe, my child, what has happened to 
you ? ” she cried. 

The girl threw herself on her nurse’s 
breast, and loud sobs shook her slight 
frame. 

“ Mon Dieu , what does this mean ? ” cried 

• 70 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


11 


the nurse. And she plied the girl with 
questions. 

Marthe interrupted her flow of words 
with : 

“ Mamma, my dear mamma, do you love 
me? ” 

“ Dieu du del ! Do I love you ? Oh, 
yes, yes, my darling ! ” 

“ Do you love me very dearly ? ” 

“ More than all the world ! ” 

“ Eh bien , loving me as you say you do, 
you will not refuse to tell me something 
that I am sure you must know, and which 
I am ignorant of ! ” 

“What is it, ma cherie? What can I 
tell you ? ” 

“ Promise me to answer all my questions 
frankly ? ” 

“ But — Marthe ” 

“ Promise me ; swear, if necessary, so 
that I may know the whole truth.” 

“ I will reply to all your questions.” 

“And 3^011 will conceal nothing from 


72 


OLD 11 ALLOTS MILLION. 


“ No, dear. But Martlie, I cannot under- 
stand what you require of me. Tell me.” 

“ I want to be sure that you will hide 
nothing from me ! ” 

“ I will hide nothing, I promise you ! ” 

“ On your word of honor ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Now, listen, mamma. How much do 
the villagers think my father is worth ? ” 

“ Some say a million ; others a million 
and a half, but people always exaggerate 
about another’s wealth.” 

“ Then without exaggeration my father 
is worth a million ? ” 

“ I can’t tell you that, for I don’t know.” 

“ Well, mamma, let us count up for our- 
selves. How much are the farms at Noues 
worth ? ” 

“ At the least, two hundred thousand 
francs.” 

‘‘And the cMteau and domain at Aube* 
court ? ” 

“ About the same.” 

“ The farm at Courant ? ” 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION , i 


73 


“ About the same figure.” 

“ The wood and pastures at Eancourt ? ” 

“ Another two hundred thousand francs.” 

“Mamma, we have already reached eight 
hundred thousand francs, and if we add 
the approximate value of his other farms, 
also the vineyards, we can add another two 
hundred thousand ; that makes a million 
francs’ worth of real estate. This is all 
landed property, free and clear, as my 
father boasts that he never borrowed a sou 
on any real estate. Think again, at the 
parsimonious way we live. He must save 
a great deal, and, as he does not purchase 
any more land, he must have piles of 
money — perhaps half a million — hidden in 
his safes ! ” 

“ Mon Dieu, my child ! how readily you 
count ! And your figures are correct, I 
should judge; perfectly so.” 

Marthe spoke volubly, with a nervous 
force : 

“ But we will speak of what we can see. 
In real estate, there is a million ? ” 


74 


OLD RAO LOTS MILLION. 


“ Yes, about a million.” 

“ Foster mother, when he married my 
mother twenty-five years ago, my father was 
only a farm hand, was he not ? ” 

“ Yes” 

“ People call a farmer well off if he has 
forty or fifty thousand francs in land don’t 
they ? ” 

“Yes, men worth as much as that are very 
scarce in this country.” 

“ I know it ; but let us take, for instance, 
the richest farmers in the vicinity. How 
long a time, with very hard work, the hardest 
they could do, saving every sou — -how long 
would iFtake men to amass a million ? ” 

“ How long a time ? All his life, and the 
lives of ten men after him ! ” 

The young girl smothered a sigh, and 
rapidly passed her hand over her forehead, 
wet with cold perspiration. 

“And my father,” she articulated the 
words very slowly, “who twenty-five years 
ago did not own enough land to bury him in 
has to-day property worth a million ! Nurse, 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


75 


wliat can Mathurin Raclot have done to be- 
come so wealthy ? ” 

The poor woman remained silent for a 
moment to gain time to think. 

“ I will tell yon, my child,” she murmured. 
“ Your father was never like other men. He 
not only worked hard, but saved every 
centime, and he and your sainted mother did 
not spare themselves ; they worked very hard 
all the day long, and far into the night, too, 
for that matter.” 

Marthe replied quickly : 

“ Though they had been rich, they could 
never have made a million by farming, as 
you have just told me.” 

“ Of course they could not, but do not for- 
get that your mother inherited a considerable 
sum.” 

“I know that. How much did Aunt 
Marie leave ? ” 

“ Two hundred and fifty thousand francs 
in money -alone.” 

“ But that’s far from a million ! ” 

“ Yes, Marthe, but remember your father 


IQ 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


only bought when property was cheap, and 
at forced sales.” 

“ We will talk of my father’s purchases 
later on. I can remember having heard, as a 
child, that my great-aunt Marie had a brother 
in Paris.” 

“She had.” 

“ And this brother of my aunt’s ; I never 
saw him ; and my father never speaks of 
him. Perhaps he is dead. But I think I 
remember that he had quite a large family ? ” 

“Five children, Marthe, if my memory 
serves me.” 

“ Did my mother’s uncle also inherit part of 
my Aunt Marie’s fortune, as we have done ? ” 

“No, your great-aunt left it all to your 
mother in trust for you.” 

“ And disinherited her only brother ? ” 

“ Dame , yes.” 

“ Then I suppose my great-uncle was 
well off and did not need it ? ” 

“ He was very poor.” 

“ And he had five children besides, and 
his own sister did not leave him a franc ! ” 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


11 


bitterly cried Marthe. She guessed instinct- 
ively what role her father had played in 
his business. She remained silent a moment, 
and then said : 

“ Foster mother, was my father kind 
and generous to my poor mother?” 

* “ Not very, Marthe ; not very good,” an- 
swered the old woman, who did not yet 
catch the drift of Marthe’s conversation, 
who was trying to find out if what her fel- 
low traveler had said was true. 

“ So my poor mother really suffered at 
my father’s hands,” she thought. Then, in 
a loud voice she said : 

“ Nurse, if it is true, all that I have 
heard — and which I can no longer doubt — 
it’s to your care I owe my life. Fortunate 
indeed, was I to secure such love and ten- 
derness, which my own parents failed to 
give me ! ” 

“ I do not say that, ma cherie ; but as 
everybody knows, you were very frail and 
delicate when you were born ; a poor little 
doll of a baby.” 


78 


OLD IIACLOT'S MILLION. 


“And were you well paid for your love 
and affection toward me?” 

“ I received my pay regularly, and tlie 
sum that was agreed on ; and occasionally 
your kind mother made me presents unbe- 
known to your father.” 

“So when she wanted to do right and 
kindly, my mother had to do it on the 
sly ! I suppose he was so avaricious 
and mean that he never gave her much 
either ! ” 

“ Marthe, your father is hard to himself. 
God forgive me for saying anything de- 
rogatory of your father to you.” 

“Still, my dear nurse, you are the only 
person I can ask for information, and you 
can tell me in what regard he is held in 
the county?” 

“ Spare me, Marthe ! ” cried the old peas 
ant woman nervously. 

“Nurse, I have your promise. You have 
sworn to answer me truly, and hide noth 
ing from me ! ” 

“ But, daughter ! ” 


OLD BAG LOT' 8 MILLION. 


79 


“ Va, I am already pretty well informed ! ” 

“Oh!” 

“I know that my father is execrated by 
every one and counted little better than a 
thief ! ” 

“ Helas !” sighed the nurse, bowing her 
head sorrowfully. 

“ I know’ that my father is cursed, and 
that the curses will fall on me, his daugh- 
ter ! ” 

“ Marthe ! Marthe ! it’s not your fault ! 
You are as guiltless as an angel ! ” 

“ I,” replied the girl in a dry voice, “ I am 
the daughter of my father ! and because I 
am the daughter of Mathurin Paclot, people 
are afraid of me, and look at me curiously. 
I have not a single friend here in my native 
place. People avoid me as though I had a 
loathsome disease ! ” 

In saying these words the poor child could 
no longer restrain her tears. 

“Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu ! have 
pity ! ” cried the nurse. 

The girl dried her eyes, and tried to swal- 


80 


OLD RAC LOT'S MILLION. 


low her tears, and partly recovered her 
energy. 

“Nurse, my kind friend,” continued Mar- 
the, “ tell me how, after having been a plow- 
man on the farm at Courant, my father is 
now the owner ? ” 

“ Marthe, my child, I beseech you ! ” 

“ I will know ! ” cried the girl imperi- 
ously. 

“Do not be angry, then! Well, since 
you oblige me to tell you, I will ; however, 
it’s only gossip that I repeat, as individually 
I know nothing : 

“Lambert married one of the Michaud 
girls after old man Michaud’s death; the 
farm was divided into four portions. Lam- 
bert bought the other three portions and 
retained the farm. He had to pay a big 
price, so he borrowed the money from Mon- 
sieur Poncelet the notary, rather than from 
your father, whom he knew exacted big 
interest. The notary always had money to 
lend, and readily lent it on first-class mort- 
gages. He pretended that his clients left 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


81 


money in his hands to invest, when in real- 
ity it was all Mathurin Raclot’s, and the 
notary was only the intermediary. Karely, 
if ever, the name of your father appeared on 
the mortgages. The notary has men of 
straw, whose names he often borrowed. 
Lambert borrowed sixty thousand francs, 
but they really gave him fifty thousand, 
though the bond called for sixty thousand. 
So you see he was no better treated by the 
notary than if had gone to your father di- 
rect. He had six years to pay the principal, 
at five per cent., on sixty thousand francs.” 

“ That’s robbery ! ” cried Marthe. 

“ Unfortunately,” continued the nurse, 
“ poor Lambert had bad harvests. A severe 
hailstorm ruined his crops ; the following 
year an incendiary burnt his hay ricks, and, 
to cap the whole, glanders killed all his 
horses. Now, Lambert had counted on his 
harvests and the sale of his fine horses to 
pay the interest on the mortgage, but he 
had to borrow money to pay the interest, 
and he had to borrow of the notary, at com- 


82 


OLD RACL0T8 MILLION. 


pound interest, the money necessary to re- 
plant and restock his farm. He began to 
succeed quite well. Things looked brighter, 
when death suddenly carried hini off.” 

“ Poor fellow ! who knows if the worry 
and anxiety caused by his debt did not 
hasten his death ? ” 

“ People said so, but gossip is always 
a liar,” continued the nurse. “ Madame Lam- 
bert was not over the death of her 
husband before she received notification 
of a debt of one hundred thousand francs 
which her husband had borrowed, aug- 
mented by a year’s unpaid interest. Of 
course she could not pay it at once, so 
the law took its course, and legal meas- 
ures were taken to foreclose, and the 
property was sold.” 

“How much did it fetch at the public 
sale ? ” 

“ One hundred and thirty thousand 
francs. Just half its value.” 

“So in reality my father got this farm 
for eighty thousand francs?” 


OLD RAGLOrS MILLION. 


83 


“ In that neighborhood.” 

“ What was left for the widow and 
children to live on ? ” 

“ Nothing. The sale of the cattle, wine, 
fodder, and horses, also the farm imple- 
ments, only paid the legal expenses.” 

“ But this was terrible injustice ! ” 

“ Ah ! Marthe ! why did you insist 
upon knowing ? ” 

“ Because I must ! ” And Marthe asked 
in a trembling voice : 

“And the other fine farms, fields, and 
pastures were acquired in the same dis- 
honest way, I suppose ? ” 

The nurse bowed her head silently. 

“ These usurious loans,” continued the 
girl, “these foreclosures, ruined many for 
one man’s benefit. This work which began in 
robbing my great-uncle has so increased that 
many widows and orphans are to-day hungry 
and naked, without a roof to cover them, 
through my father’s agency. Wherever my 
father’s hand is put, death and desolation 
follow ! How disgraceful for him and I ! ” 


U OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION. 

She hid her face in her hands and 
cried anew* 

The nurse cried too, out of sympathy, 
and for her lack of knowing what to do 
to console her. She ought to have held 
her tongue, rather than cause her Marthe 
to cry so. But it was Marthe’s fault ; 
she made her speak. That the young girl 
blamed her father, she saw ; also, that 
she was ashamed. All this the old peas- 
ant guessed, but she could not divine the 
secret sorrow, nor any wish of her foster 
child, or what the consequences would be 
after these revelations which she had 
made. 

In a little while Marthe raised her 
head. The sorrow she felt could plainly 
be seen on her pale, beautiful face. 

“ Dear nurse,” she said tenderly, “ I 
thank you ! ” 

“ Oh, do not thank me ! ” warmly re- 
plied the old peasant ; “ it’s all your own 
fault I ever told you ! ” 

“ Si, si, it was absolutely necessary for 


OLD R A® LOT'S MILLION. 


85 


me to know. Now I have no more ques- 
tions to ask. I know all.” 

“ Marthe, there is something in your 
face that frightens me! My child, what 
do you propose doing?” 

“What I am going to do you will soon 
know.” 

Evidently Marthe had some idea in her 
brain, for her face became scarlet. She 
took the old woman’s hands, and clasped 
them in hers; then kissing her on both 
her withered cheeks, she left the cottage. 

Mathurin had not returned from his 
daily visit of inspection when Marthe 
reached the house. She hastened to her 
own room and locked the door, to be sure 
of privacy. She felt heart-broken. Vio- 
lent spasms shook her fragile form, and 
gladly would she have welcomed death as 
a deliverance from her present perplexity. 

u IZnfin /” she said to herself, “this is 
the secret of my father’s enormous for- 
tune ! He enriched himself at the expense 


86 


OLD R A CLOT'S MILLION. 


of others, and preyed on their misery. I 
am the daughter of a usurer ; one of 
those people whom men shun as a ven- 
omous snake ! How unfortunate for me ! 
I have been brought up and educated 
with stolen money. I have eaten the 
bread of the hungry, and it has not 
choked me ! While they have starved and 
lacked the necessities of life, even coal and 
light, I have had a warm fire and a well- 
lighted room.” 

She began to walk up and down, a 
prey to violent excitement. 

“ Yes, yes, it’s dreadful ! ” she cried. 
“ Even the clothes I wear do not right- 
fully belong to me!” Her eyes fell on 
the mirror, and she saw the sparkle of her 
diamond earrings. “ And these jewels in 
my ears and on my finger — they burn 
me ! ” She took out the earrings and tore 
the ring from her finger in her haste to 
get rid of them, and shut them up in 
their cases, and in doing bo, she saw those 
which she had at school. She had dressed 


OLD KACLOT'S MILLION. 


87 


very simply to go to her nurse’s, in a 
plain black cashmere, which was not new 
or fashionable. She had many others finer 
and richer, but they were in the glass 
armoire. She smiled pitifully while look- 
ing at her reflection in the glass. 

“ I am well enough as I am,” said she. 

Still, George de Santenay was expected 
to visit them that day, and he would soon 
be there. 

Helas ! Marthe would not allow herself 
to dress coquettishly. 

She washed her face to remove traces 
of her tears. 

About half-past eleven the servant came 
to say that her father wished to see her 
in the parlor. Nervously rubbing her face 
with some eau de cologne she tried to 
leave the room, but her steps faltered ; 
and tremblingly she went downstairs. By 
the time she reached the salon, however, 
she recovered her self-composure. 

George was already there and was talk- 
ing to his future father-in-law. 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


Monsieur Raclot’s face was bright and 
smiling and made a sharp contrast to his 
daughter’s sorrowful one. 

“ Bonjour , mon Pere ! Bonjour , Monsieur 
George,” said Marthe, giving him her hand. 

Astonished at this reception, George tried 
to draw her toward him and kiss her. 

She allowed him to. 

“Hum, this is a cool way to salute your 
fiancee , George — only one kiss.” George 
paled, his heart became heavy as his un- 
quietude increased ; he felt that there was 
something coming. Still he held Marthe’s 
hand and looked at her anxiously. 

Mathurin Raclot scratched his head. 

“ Marthe,” said George, in a low tone of 
voice, “how sad you look and what a 
peculiar reception you give me to-day.” 

She sighed. 

“ Marthe, my dearest Marthe, are you ill, 
in pain? Tell me at once.” 

“Not now, Monsieur George.” 

“ When ? ” 

“ After lunch.” 


OLD 11 AC LOT 8 MILLION. 


89 


“ So I was right, Marthe, you have some 
sorrow ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Real sorrow ? ” 

“Yes.” 

The young man felt her cold little hand 
tremble in his, then he felt a chill come 
over him; he was frightened. 

Marthe gently took her hand away and 
smiled sadly. 

“ Hum, hum ! ” said Monsieur Raclot, 
“ there is something up, and whatever it is 
I wish that his Satanic Majesty would 
take it.” 

The three persons found themselves in 
a painful situation; fortunately the servant 
announced that the dejeuner was ready. 

George offered his arm to his fiancee and 
they entered the salle a manger . 

The repast was very modest. A few 
soft boiled eggs, some lamb cutlets, and a 
puree of potatoes with fruit and cheese. 

Mathurin was not profuse in anything. 

Marthe, who had eaten scarcely any- 


90 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


thing since the previous evening, felt faint 
with hunger, so she ate a little of every- 
thing ; besides, she had to eat to encourage 
George, who had ridden a long way to see 
her. 

After the coffee was served, Monsieur 
Raclot felt himself de trop and, not liking 
to see the grief displayed on liis daughter’s 
face, got up from the table and said he 
woidd take his pipe in the garden, as a 
pretext for leaving the young people 
alone. 

“My father,” said Marthe, “I must ask 
you to stay and smoke your pipe here as 
usual. I have something to say to Monsieur 
George de Santenay that I want you to 
hear.” 

“ Ah ! ” thought the peasant, looking, with 
a wink, toward the young man. So he filled 
his pipe and lit it, and reseated himself in his 
own arm-chair. 

“ Go on, Marthe ; what is it you want to 
say to Monsieur George de Santenay that I 
must hear ? ” 


OLD RAO LOT'S MILLION. 


91 


Tlie young girl turned toward George as if 
to recover her composure and courage. 

“ Monsieur George,” she said, “ I am going 
to cause you some sorrow, and before I do 
so, I ask your pardon. Since your last visit 
to us I have reflected and seriously thought 
over many things. I am now resolved. So, 
Monsieur Santenay, we ought never to have 
met ; this sorrow and grief I bear now is fatal 
to love ; hence, you must forget me.” 

“Forget you — never think of you !” cried 
the youug man. 

“You must, Monsieur George. I have 
firmly resolved never to marry.” 

The young man let a cry of anguish escape 
his lips, afraid he had heard aright, and 
jumped up as if bitten by some noxious 
insect. 

Monsieur Raclot closed his mouth and 
opened his eyes with astonishment. 

“ Marthe, Marthe, what are you saying ? ” 
cried George in a choked voice. 

“ What she says is nonsense,” said her 
father ; “ don’t pay any attention to it.” 


92 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION, \ 


Marthe looked at lier father sternly, and in 
a firm voice said : 

“ I will never many.” 

The young man put his hand to his head 
in a bewildered way, and murmured : 

“ But I cannot understand what it means. 
Mon Dieu , what can have occurred ? ” 

“ Ma foi y Monsieur de Santenay,” said M. 
Raclot, who was also astonished, “ I do not 
know any more than you do. However, I 
think that Marthe is not quite right in her 
head; what she has just said is so absurd 
that I cannot believe it. I will leave you 
with my daughter alone ; talk to her as you 
have the right to, and I hope you will be 
able to bring her to her senses.” 

After saying these few words, and with an 
angry look, Monsieur left the room, banging 
the door behind him as a man in a temper 
would, and he went into the garden and lit 
his pipe. • 

The first thought he had in hearing 
Marthe say she would not marry, was this : 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION. 


93 


“ I would rather she did not, then I can 
save my fifty thousand francs.” 

The ofd miser consoled himself easily. 

George, as soon as they were alone, 
fell on his knees before her, with a look 
of loving devotion. 

“ Marthe, my dear Marthe, you have 
struck me a cruel bl w ; why did you ? 
Tell me what I have done that is 
wrong ? ” 

“ Nothing, Monsieur George.” 

The poor girl was shivering with ner* 
vousness. 

“Then, why do you treat me so? under 
whose wicked influence are you? Mar- 
the, I conjure you to speak and tell me 
the reason for this sudden whim.” 

“ I have no explanation to give you, 
Monsieur George.” 

“Marthe,” replied the young man, ris- 
ing, “I will not reproach you with one 
word. I know you well enough, that once 
your resolution is taken, you will not 


94 


OLD BAOLOTS MILLION . 


change your mind. So I will leave you 
without hope; but I must say this, that 
you condemn me to a life of suffering. What 
caused you to change your mind? As I 
know you must have had good and sufficient 
reason, have I not the right to be told ? ” 

“ Monsieur George, please do not inter- 
rogate me, for I cannot answer.” 

“ Marthe, your silence is worse than the 
most terrible truths. For by your silence 
you permit me to think any evil thought 
that comes to my mind.” 

“ No, no,” she cried, warmly, “ do not 
suppose anything at all. I beg of you, 
Monsieur George, not to question me fur- 
ther, or seek to find the reason.” 

The young man looked at her fixedly 
for a moment, then gravely bowed his 
head in acquiescence. 

“ When I reached Aubecourt two hours 
ago, I felt the happiest man in the world,” 
said he bitterly. “I felt so confident of 
my future joy. No one’s life looked 
brighter than mine ; everything was smil- 


OLD 11 ALLOT 8 MILLION. 95 

ing and gay; my heart was full of the 
tenderest emotions, and content filled my 
soul. I am soon to see my beloved Mar- 
the ! Ah, Marthe, I never dreamed of 
the blow your fairy hands could deal ! ” 

The girl could not repress a sigh. 

Then George continued: “ Nothing, no 
nothing, would have made me suspect that 
I should find another Marthe in place of 
mine. Only three days ago we were hand 
in hand, talking gayly over our future 
and the prospects of such happiness. 
You were a radiant beauty in your glory 
and youth, with perfect love illumined on 
every feature of your face. Ah, my heart 
was so joyful ! I said to you, while 
holding your hand, i Marthe, I adore you,’ 
and you replied, in a soft dulcet tone, 
i George, I love you.’ When we separated 
that evening we kissed each other, as we 
have done since our betrothal, and your 
voice was not strident, like your voice is 
now, as you softly whispered in my ear, ‘A 
bientot , my George. A bientot ! ’ 


96 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


“ This was only three days ago when I 
left so gayly; now, conld I help returning 
joyously, saying to myself along the dusty 
route, ‘ She is waiting for me ’ ? 

“ Here I am before yon, and when all is 
ready for the marriage, all formalities 
arranged, you say to me, ‘ I do not intend 
to marry.’” 

The girl burst into tears. 

“ What has happened during these past 
few days?” continued George. “I ask you, 
and you refuse to tell me. Ah, Marthe, 
if I have in any way merited this awful 
chastisement that you inflict so suddenly 
on me — tell me.” 

Tears continued to flow from Marthe’s 
eyes and a great sob escaped her lips ; 
then George, who was crying also, said: 

“You have the right to all my respect 
and adoration. Is it because you think I 
do not love you well enough, or that you 
consider I neglect you?” 

“ Oh, don’t speak like that ! ” she ex- 
claimed. 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


97 


“ Then, Mademoiselle Marthe, is it be- 
cause you do not love me ? ” 

“ Oh, oh ! ” she cried. 

“ But perhaps you have never loved 
me,” continued he. “ 1 have good reason 
to think it; I also have the right to sup- 
pose that your lips lied the day you told 
my sister that you loved me; that your 
lips also lied when you replied to my 
words of love and affection with those 
equally as tender.” 

“ Monsieur George,” said Marthe, in a 
faint voice, “ your words are breaking my 
heart.” 

“ And mine also, Marthe ; do you imag- 
ine that you alone suffer? You wound me 
more cruelly than if you had thrust a pon- 
iard in my breast. It’s I that suffer. I 
feel as if I had been bruised and beaten, 
and I must keep silent. You have shot an 
arrow which kills me, as your decision is 
equal to a condemnation, and you wish me 
to humbly bow my head, and accept your 
dictum without a word of protest. 


08 


OLD HACLOTS MILLION. 


“ All hope that a man has in life I 
placed in your hands. The bright future 
was to be so joyous in your company. 
And now you destroy all my hope, and 
shut out my future; it’s worse than death 
a thousand times. Marthe, Marthe, I love 
you; I defend my life and happiness.” 

The unfortunate girl kept her hands 
before her face. 

“ Marthe,” continued the young man, 
“ do you still love me ? ” 

She proudly raised her drooping head, 
and looking George full in the face re- 
plied, in a sincere voice : 

“Yes, Monsieur George, I love you now 
and for eternity.” 

“You love me, yet send me away; is, 
•this reasonable ? ” 

“ I cannot be your wife.”j 

“ But why not ? ” 

“ If I were able to answer I should 
most certainly do so,” she replied sadly. 

“ I see that there is some obstacle come 
between us, Marthe,” said George ; “ tell me 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


99 


what it is, and I will assist you to over- 
come it.” 

“ Against this obstacle neither you nor I 
can fight ; nor indeed can any human agency 
assist us.” 

“ And you will not inform me what it is ? ” 

She replied with a shake of her head. 

“ Little darling, can’t I share the secret,” 
said George coaxingly. 

“No.” 

“ So I must release you from your promise 
to be my wife ? ” 

“ Yes, George.” 

“ Forever \ ” 

“ Forever.” 

“ Ah, stop Martlie ! ” cried the young 
man, with impatience which he could not 
conceal, “I do not know what to think. — 
Once again, Martlie, you have given me 
the right to suppose anything, however un- 
true it may be — still — what can I not 
imagine ? ” 

The girl looked at her lover fixedly as 
if to read his most inner thoughts. 


100 


OLD BALLOT'S MILLION 


“ Ah, how unfortunate I am,” she cried. 
Her physical strength gave way, and she fell 
heavily on a sofa, and hiding her face within 
her hands yielded to a paroxysm of tears. 

George could not restrain himself from 
shedding bitter tears of mortification. 

“Marthe, where is the happiness we had 
promised ourselves ? ” he exclaimed, bitterly. 

“ Be quiet, be quiet,” she said in a broken 
voice, “ you are putting me on the rack.” 

Then there was a long silence, only 
broken by sobs. 

“ Marthe,” said George, “ what am I to say 
to your father ? ” 

“ That my resolution is fixed.” 

“Which means that you do not intend 
to have George de Santenay for a husband ? ” 

“ Monsieur, I can never be your wife, 
nor the wife of any man ? ” 

“ You will change your tone some day ! ” 
said the young man angrily. “ Another will 
be happier than I ! ” 

Marthe rose up straight as a dart, and ex- 
claimed bitterly : 


OLD BACLOT'S MILLION. 


101 


“ Who would dare marry a girl like me ? ” 
George^ fell back a pace or two, seized 
with a terrible thought, which he instantly 
banished. He could no more doubt Marthe’s 
virtue and purity than he could doubt the 
constancy of the sun in heaven. 

Again there was silence. Neither dared 
to speak. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said George, “ according 
to your desire, I will now take my leave 
of you forever ! ” 

“ Indeed, it must be forever ! ” 

“ And we shall never see each other 
again ? ” 

“ It is necessary.” 

“ And you wish me to forget you ? ” 

“ Please forget me ! ” 

“ Adieu ! Marthe ! ” 

“ Adieu, George ! ” 

“ So this is your last word ! And how 
coolly ! I must ask myself seriously if you 
possess a heart ? ” 

The heroic girl let a heart-rending cry 
escape her frozen lips. 


102 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


“ This is more than I deserve ! What do 
you want me to do ? What can I say ? ” 
cried she, crazy with grief. 

George now understood that there was no 
hope for him. He took a long look, wherein 
love and sorrow were mingled, and with a 
cry of anguish left the salon. 

“Oh, that I were dead!” cried the girl. 
She fell back upon the cushions as if crushed 
by her struggle between love and honor. 

The young man rejoined Monsieur Raclot 
in the garden, who saw at once that hope 
had fled from George’s heart. 

“ Eh lien ? ” interrogated he coolly. 

The young engineer bowed his head 
sadly. 

“ Did you not settle it with her ? ” 

“ All is over, Monsieur. The happiness of 
my life is gone forever. I shall never see 
your daughter again. She begged me not to 
think of her — to forget her; but — that will 
be impossible ! ” 

“You did not reason with her properly ! ” 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


103 


“ I said all that my heart dictated and 
love inspired.” 

“ Well, what did she say ? ” 

“ Always the same refrain : ‘ I will not 
marry ! ’ ” 

“ But what reason did she give ? ” 

“ That is her secret, and she is determined 
to keep it.” 

The young man bid Monsieur Raclot 
adieu, and half an hour later left Aubecourt. 
Pie felt in despair. Death was in his soul. 
Reflecting bitterly on the unstability of life’s 
joys and pleasures, he asked himself if hap- 
piness was only a chimera to allure people 
on. Vainly he tried to conjure up some ex- 
planation for the girl’s mysterious actions, 
and her silence. Both were problems he 
could not solve. Evidently there was some 
mystery back of it ; but Avhat ? He did not 
feel angry, in spite of the singular way she 
had dismissed him. He never doubted her 
purity and innocence. Besides, he felt in- 
stinctively Martlie was a victim. 


YII. 


When George cle Santenay Lad gone, 
Monsieur Raclot did not seek Lis daughter, 
but he said to himself, “ There is plenty of 
time before dinner for me to question her, 
and I am sure it will be far more agreeable 
to go and count my beeves before I change 
their pasture for the coming winter.” Winter 
would soon be here, with its snows and ice- 
bound brooks, and the still green grass be 
withered and of no value for feeding cattle. 
He thought that perhaps he had better sell 
them before they ate their heads off, and 
purchase some lean cattle in the spring. 
Monsieur Raclot inspected his live stock, and 
was so very interested that he forgot all 
about his daughter, in the pleasure of know- 
ing that, at the lowest possible calculation, on 
these hundred head of beef cattle, he would 
realize at least fifteen thousand francs. After 
leaving the farm at Noues he walked toward 

104 


OLD UACLOT’S MILLION. 


105 


Courant, and it was dark when he reached 
the chateau. 

He asked for his daughter. The servant 
maid said that Mademoiselle was in the salon. 

He thought he would go up and find out 
the reason of her refusal to many, as a vague 
idea occurred to him of the true state of 
affairs. 

Marthe had left off crying. She had had 
enough time to regain her wonted composure, 
and to strengthen her resolution. She was 
calm and collected to all outward appear- 
ances, when her father said : 

“ JBonsoir, ma fille ! n 

“ Bonsoir, mon pere” she replied. 

“ Why, she says nothing to me ; she is 
very peculiar*” thought the old man. He 
went toward the window and essayed to look 
into the fast gathering gloom. Then he 
opened and closed the sash to see if it was in 
order, and fidgeted around before he again 
spoke : 

“ Well, Marthe, what have you to say to 
me ? ” he asked, after a pause. 


106 


OLD BACL0T8 MILLION. 


The girl looked at him, waiting for him to 
go on. 

“ Hum, hum, you have then decided to jilt 
this nice young man ? ” 

“ Yes, father.” 

“ Don’t you want to marry, then ? ” 

“ I have already told you I will not.” 

“ Between ourselves, Martlie, you should 
have changed your mind sooner, instead of 
allowing this poor young man to dance atten- 
dance on you here, and then coolly tell him 
to go ! ” 

“ I know it has been very wrong on my 
part, father.” 

“ Now, if you had only told him your 
little story before the marriage had been 
announced, or the banns published, it would 
not have been half so bad.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” 

“ Why, certainly. Don’t we see mar- 
riages broken off every day? Girls have 
the right to reflect and change their minds 
if they want to. 

“ But let us return to George ; he left 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


107 


me very sad and almost broken-hearted, 
and I should not be at all astonished to 
hear that he was ill, he looked so very 
wretched. However, you sent him cleverly 
away, and I will guarantee he does not 
come here again. I was pleased that you 
were going to marry, only, however, be- 
cause I imagined it was your heartfelt 
desire. If you do not wish to marry, 
and have changed your mind, I am just 
as well satisfied. I am glad to have your 
company. A father does not see his only 
daughter leave him for another’s home 
with pleasure. You are right in not mar- 
rying, my daughter. After all, why should 
you ? You could never be happier than 
with your loving father.” 

The girl listened attentively, though it 
required all her energy to remain calm 
and silent. 

“ Dis done” continued Raclot, “ I believe 
you did not give Monsieur George any 
reasons for your sudden change of mind?” 

“I gave him none, father.” 


108 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION \ 


“That must be why he was so angry. 
He was extremely bitter. However, Marthe, 
you must certainly have had a good one, 
and you did not tell him what it was. 
Perhaps it was not one to tell a young 
man, but you can tell me, as I am your 
father. Will you then inform me ? ” 

“ Certainly, my father.” 

“ Eh ! lien .” 

“ Eh ! Men, father, after mature reflec- 
tions, I am sure that the dower of fifty 
thousand francs, which you were to give 
me, is a very large sum of money, and I 
am confident that you would have real 
difficulty in getting it. And so my 
marriage would be a source of burden 
and monetary embarrassment for the bal- 
ance of your life.” 

“ Ah, did you think over all this ? ” 

“ Of course I did, father. I know that 
there are many fathers that give their 
daughters fifty thousand francs dowry, 
but then, they are rich men. You are 
only a peasant, my father, though you do 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION . 


109 


reside in a chateau, and as I am not a 
fool, and knowing that though a peasant 
may have a good deal of land, he rarely 
has ready cash.” 

“You are perfectly correct.” 

“ Enjin, mon pere, I could not bear to 
think that you were 'going to inconven- 
ience yourself on my behalf, and as I 
have already told you I thought the 
matter over, and decided not to marry.” 

“ Ah, under these conditions you are 
doing your duty, daughter.” 

“I know it, father.” 

“ Hum ! Hum ! ” 

“You know that I recognize my duty 
toward you, father.” 

“ Why yes ! You are a most excellent 
daughter, with good common sense.” And 
he continued hypocritically, “ Without a 
doubt fifty thousand francs is an immense 
sum, and as you have rightly remarked 
just now, Marthe, though a peasant may 
be rich in land, he is poor in purse; 
but having seen that all your future hap- 


110 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


piness called for a sacrifice on my part, 
I did not hesitate to make it. One must 
do what he can to insure his beloved 
child’s welfare, and, to be brief, I found 
means whereby I could arrange to procure 
your dowry without any serious diffi- 
culty.” 

“ That may be, but I do not wish my 
father’s happiness and financial prospects 
bartered for mine.” 

“ Hum, hum, I have no answer to make 
to that.” 

“ So, my father, I will never marry.” 

“ Oh, never ? ” 

“ Never, never, never ! ” 

“ Are you sure you won’t change your 
mind ? ” 

“ Yes, nothing in the world would make 
me change it.” 

“ W ell, Marthe, you are right, and I 
approve of your decision. Marriage is not 
what it is quoted to be ; one has many 
cares and anxieties ; and, by my faith, when 
a girl has a good home she is foolish to 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


Ill 


want to leave it. So let marriage go, and 
I will take good and loving care of you, 
now and for always.” 

“ I must ask your pardon, father, but it 
is not my intention to remain at home.” 

“ Hein! what do you mean?” 

“ I mean that to-morrow I am going to 
leave you.” 

“ Are you talking seriously ? ” 

“ I am, father; very seriously indeed.” 

“ And you want to leave me ? ” 

“ That is another resolution that I have 
decided to adopt.” 

“ Where will you go ? ” 

“To town.” 

“ To do what, may I inquire ? ” 

“To work, to earn my living.” 

“ Work? earn your living ? you are bereft 
of your senses!” 

“No, I am not.” 

“Work? But what can you do?” 

“ Do you forget I graduated and received 
a government diploma as a teacher ? ” 

“ Do you want to be one ? ” 


112 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


“I should like to teach.” 

“Hum, hum.” 

“You have always worked, and my 
mother worked hard ; I can also. I am not 
a lady by birth ; only the daughter of a 
peasant. And when I see all the other 
girls in Aubecourt going to work in the 
field, I am ashamed of my own uselessness.” 

“ The girls in Aubecourt were intended 
to work in the fields, while you ” 

“ True, father ; I could not dig pota- 
toes, or weed corn, or plow, as I do not 
know how ; still, that ought not to pre- 
vent me from doing work suited to my 
strength and knowledge. We are in the 
world to work; each one must fill liis 
niclie according to his talents, and I am 
really ashamed of my own idleness.” 

“ But you are not idle, Marthe, for I 
have never seen your hands empty ; you 
have your crochet.” 

“ Embroidery and crochet are not work, 
father ; they are only pour passer le temps” 

“ I am satisfied ; and if I am, it’s no 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


113 


one else’s business what you do. It’s mine. 
Marthe, I am not rich, — as rich as 
some people imagine, — but I am not poor 
by any means. I have enough to live on 
with strict economy. You can rest easy 
on that score ; you are not obliged to 
work, and I assure you you will never 
lack bread here.” 

“ I am sure of that, father ; but I do 
not wish to be any expense to you.” 

“ You are not much expense, child.” 

“ I must repeat to you what I have 
already said, that both you and mother 
worked ; I musti do likewise. There is no 
sweeter bread in the world than that 
which one earns by one’s own endeavors. 
I am a teacher by profession, and I am 
going to earn my own living.” 

“ Hum, hum,” said Monsieur Raclot, 
scratching his head dubiously, “ are you 
thoroughly decided on this step?” 

“ Yes, father, I am.” 

“ Alas ! then I have nothing more to say.” 

“ Thank you very much.” 


114 


OLD LiACLOTS MILLION. 


“So you see, Marthe, I never interfere 
with your programmes, do I ? And you 
wish to go to-morrow ? ” 

“ If I may.” 

“ And you will go to town ? ” 

“This is my intention.” 

“Do you expect to find a situation at 
once ? ” 

“I hope so.” 

“ I don’t think you will.” 

“I will find that out.” 

“Marthe, you are very hasty and head- 
strong.” 

“ I am neither, father.” 

“Well, now, you will need some money. 
How much shall I give you?” 

“ None.” 

“ How ? None ? ” 

“Be not uneasy; I have enough.” 

“Now I comprehend. You are going 
straight to the convent ! ” 

“ I meant to do so. I do not wish to 
hide anything from you, so I will tell 
you my idea. I think that the Sisters 


OLD RACL0T8 MILLION, \ 115 

will allow me to stay in the community 
with them, and give me an infant class 
to teach.” 

“ If you are mistaken, what then ? ” 

“ If I cannot be employed by the nuns 
where I was educated, the Ursulines have 
several other establishments in France. The 
Reverend Mother will procure me a place 
with some of them. And father, no matter 
where I am, please do not give my address 
to any one, or tell them of the determination 
I have taken to be a teacher.” 

“ I will promise you ; but, you will come 
and visit me from time to time ? ” 

“ I shall often think of you, father, but I 
am not sure if I shall ever come and see you, 
as you wish.” 

“ What do you mean ? Is it that I have 
no longer a child ? ” murmured Monsieur 
Raclot, for the first time really touched with 
emotion. 

The girl remained silent. 

She had no more to say. 

After the dinner, which was not pro- 


116 


OLD DAVLOrs MILLION. 


longed, Martlie went to her room and soon 
came down with the jewel case in her 
hand. 

“ What is there ? ” inquired her father. 

The girl opened the case. 

“ Well, what ? ” 

“ Father, I do not know the value of these 
jewels which you were so kind as to give 
me. But they are too handsome for the 
situation I propose taking, as a governess 
does not need jeivels. It’s better that she 
has none. Please take these back, father.” 

Monsieur Baclot looked at his daughter 
with amazement. 

“Very well,” he stammered, “I will take 
care of them for you, and any time you ask 
for them they will be ready for you.” 

But the old man was to be more surprised 
yet. 

On the following morning, when Martlie 
came to say good-by, he noticed she only 
carried a small hand-bag. 

“ Where is your trunk with your clothes ? ” 
said he. 


OLD DA CLOT’S MILLION. 


Ill 


“I have a change of underwear, and as 
for my dresses and other things, I leave 
them behind, knowing they will be of no 
use where I am going, as all teachers in re- 
ligious communities dress the same, and I 
have that dress with me.” 

She then kissed her father and said good- 
by. 

She walked quickly down the hill on 
which the chateau was situated. A person 
seeing her haste would have said she was 
anxious to leave the paternal roof. Still she 
had plenty of time before the stage left ; 
more than half an hour. But before leav- 
ing Aubecourt for good, she wanted to see 
her nurse and kiss her once again, perhaps 
for the last time. 

She found the good woman just lighting 
her fire. 

“ Why, is it you, darling, and so early ? ” 
cried the old woman. 

“ In a little while I am going to take the 
stage, and I would not leave until I said 
good-by and kissed you, mamma.” 


118 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


“ That’s a good girl, Marthe ; so you are 
going to town?” 

“Yes, and perhaps much farther than 
that ; much farther.” 

“ But are you going traveling ? ” 

“Yes, mamma, a long journey; perhaps 
to another country.” 

“ When will you return ? ” 

“ Never.” 

The old nurse shuddered at Marthe’s 
words. 

“ I do not understand you, my child ; 
what do you mean ? ” 

“ I have come to tell you that I am going 
away, perhaps never to return.” 

“ Attons, allons , are you joking ?” 

“ No, nurse.” 

“ I do not believe you. What about your 
marriage ? ” 

“ It’s all over. I shall never many.” 

“ Ah, bien cherie , what can have occurred ? 
I cannot credit what you are saying.” 

“ I am telling you the truth.” 

The old peasant woman remained quiet a 


OLD UACLOrS MILLION. 


no 


moment, as though stunned; then she gave 
a despairing cry and threw herself into 
Marthe’s arms, sobbing bitterly. 

"I cannot understand,” she cried. “You 
are leaving your home. You have broken 

oft* your marriage because of I can’t say 

why. Yesterday, when I asked you what 
you were going to do, you answered that I 
should soon know. This is what you were 
thinking of, and it’s I that am the cause of 
all. Ah, Marthe, forgive me ; I am a 
wicked old woman for gossiping so,” and 
she cried harder than ever. 

“ Nurse, do not cry,” said Marthe ; “ and 
above all, do not accuse yourself of being the 
cause. Yesterday you only confirmed what 
I already knew, and before coming to see 
you my mind was already made up. But if 
you really love your little Marthe, and do 
not wish to cause her pain and sorrow, do 
not speak to any one about our conversation 
yesterday. I do not want people to know 
that I am aware of my father’s sins, and I 
do not want them to know why Marthe 


120 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


Kaclot cannot marry George de Santenay. 
They will doubtless say that the Santenays, 
hearing how my father made his money, 
decline to allow me to enter their family, 
and that George gave me up. Eh! Men, 
nurse, if they say it, do not contradict them. 
I forbid you to take my part.” 

“Marthe, what did you say to your 
father ? ”' 

“ That I wanted to earn my own living.” 

“ Anything more ? did you tell him what 
you learned ? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

“ And he let you go without seeking to 
restrain you ? ” 

“He could not prevent me; besides, he 
is so accustomed to living alone, his love 
for me will not cause him many sleepless 
nights^” 

“And to him vdiom you love, George 
de Santenay — what did you say to him ? ” 

“ Only these words, ‘ I will not marry.’ ” 

“Was he content with that?” 

“He had to be.” 


OLD 11 AC LOTS MILLION. 


121 


“You can’t love him, Marthe.” 

“ Keep still, nurse,” cried the girl 
angrily. “ Listen, I adore George de San- 
tenay; the love I bear him gives me cour- 
age to make untold sacrifices.” 

“ Poor child ! ” 

“And I ask but one grace of Almighty 
God” 

“What is that?” 

“That I may die for my love.” 

The old woman joined her hands and 
contemplated the girl with respectful ad- 
miration. 

“ Oh, Marthe,” she cried, “ how good 
and noble you are ! If you had only re- 
mained here, what a lady bountiful you 
would have been to the poor. And you 
go. But, my dear child, what are you go- 
ing to do?” 

“ I must not tell you.” 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

“I do not know. I will go where God 
calls me.” 

At this moment they heard the wheels 


122 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


of the stage coach and the horn of the 
driver as he drove through the village. 

The two women kissed each other with 
affection. Then Marthe had to tear her- 
self away. 

“ Adieu.” 

“ Adieu, adieu,” echoed the nurse. 

When Marthe was quite some distance 
from the cottage she could still distin- 
guish her nurse’s form on the door-step 
with her head bowed, crying. 

Indeed she was crying, poor old woman ; 
she felt as if she was now entirely alone. 
She felt that her days might not be very 
much prolonged, and she said sorrowfully, 
“The child of my heart has gone. I shall 
never see her again.” 

Three or four women had witnessed the 
tearful farewell of Marthe and her nurse. 
Astonished to see her go, they looked at 
each other as much as to say, “This is a 
singular move.” And they watched the 
stage bear Marthe away. 

One of them, bolder than the rest, asked 


OLD RAOLOrS MILLION. 


123 


the nurse, “ What has happened ? Why 
has Mam’zelle Marthe such a sorrowful 
countenance ? where is she going ? ” 

She did not tell me.” 

"I heard her say good-by to you.” 

“ Perhaps you did; is that anything re- 
markable ? ” 

“ Why was she so broken-hearted?” 

“ I did not notice she looked any dif- 
ferent from other times.” 

“Allons done. Why, you are hiding 
something from me, Mere Langier. Just 
look at your own eyes, they are full of 
tears.” 

Then cutting short the conversation, 
Mere Langier went into her own home, 
and shut the door in her questioner’s 
face. 


VIII. 


When Marthe, whom the Sisters had seen 
only two days before, arrived at the convent 
dressed in one of her old school-girl gowns, 
and asked to speak with the Reverend 
Mother at once, there was great excitement 
among the nuns. What could have occa- 
sioned this visit ? Sisters Angela and Sophie 
guessed immediately that some misfortune 
had befallen their pet pupil. One of the 
Sisters ran to inform the Reverend Mother, 
who expressed her surprise at Mademoiselle 
Raclot’s visit, and she told the sister porter- 
ess to bring Marthe to her private room. 

In a minute or two Marthe was in the 
Superior’s presence. The kind nun at once 
remarked, as the other Sisters had done, the 
red and swollen eyelids and pale face of 
Marthe Raclot ; also the shabby way in which 
she was dressed. Not as the only daughter 
of the richest peasant in the county ought 


OLD RAC LOT'S MILLION. 


125 


to be attired ; and her surprise was aug- 
mented by a vague inquietude. 

Marthe approached and held up her face 
for the loving kiss which the nun affection- 
ately, almost maternally, imprinted on her 
brow. 

“ Sit down, my child,” she said ; “ sit here 
on this chair by me, and tell me at once what 
has brought you here. I need not tell you 
your appearance and visit alarm me. I see 
that something serious has happened. Speak, 
daughter, I am anxious to know what it is.” 

“ Ma Mere” replied Marthe, in a clear 
voice, “I left my home in Aubecourt this 
morning forever, and I have come here for 
shelter ! ” 

“ What are you telling me ? ” exclaimed 
the nun. 

“ Ma Mere , for reasons which I propose to 
inform you, — for I wish to conceal nothing 
from you, — I told my father and George de 
Santenay that I would not marry.” 

“ Is this possible ? ” cried the Superior, 
more than ever astonished. 


126 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


“ Will you kindly listen to me, Ma Mere , 
and when you know why I have taken this 
solemn step, you can judge of my conduct 
and tell me if I acted for the best.” 

The girl told her all she had heard in 
the stage coach, also her visit to her foster 
mother, and what the good nurse had said to 
confirm what she had heard. She continued, 
telling how her body and soul had suffered 
in thinking over the unfortunate creatures — 
victims of her father’s avariciousness. And 
of the sorrow she felt that she would have to 
inflict on George de Santenay and her own 
wretched destiny. 

“ Enfin , ma Mere ” she added, “ I had the 
strength to remain firm in my convictions, 
though before George I almost yielded. My 
heart is crushed and heavy, but God pre- 
served me from giving way. He sustained 
my strength of mind, and I sacrificed my joy 
and happiness to obey my conscience, which 
said to me : ‘ This is your duty ! ’ ” 

The Superior remained silent, looking at 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


127 


the lovely young girl with love and unspeak- 
able tenderness. 

“ My dear child, I am very much agi- 
tated by what you have just told me. I 
do not blame your conduct, because no 
one could do that ; but, my dear girl, have 
you not been too severe toward yourself ? 
Ah, Martlie, you are not only strong and 
brave — you have acted like a heroine ! 

“ Without doubt, your father’s evil 
doings have not only been wicked and con- 
trary to charity, but fruitful of much 
misery, and are very wrong. In the eyes 
of God he is a criminal ; but you, my 
daughter, are innocent, and are not in 
the smallest degree responsible for his 
sins.” 

Martlie shook her head. 

“The sins of the father descend to his 
children,” replied she. “And his victims 
are crying for vengeance ! ” 

“And you wanted to offer yourself as a 
holocaust to appease the wrath of Heaven? 
Your sacrifice is worthy of you ; it’s sub- 


128 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


lime. But do you think the God of 
mercy and justice will accept it ? If it 
were so, the innocent could take upon them- 
selves the punishments of the guilty, and 
this would not be justice, for the old 
law says, ‘ an eye for an eye, a tooth 
for a tooth.’ Marthe, I have long recog- 
nized the delicacy of your sentiments, and 
I can but admire your force of character 
which acknowledges that your father’s im- 
mense fortune was not honestly gained ; 
therefore, you could not in conscience ac- 
cept any dowry out of ill-gotten wealth, or 
did not wish to eat the bread snatched, so 
to speak, from the mouths of the poor. I 
can also understand how you returned to 
Monsieur Raclot the jewels he gave you, 
and that you refused his money and left 
your good clothes behind, coming here 
almost beggarly dressed. But, my child, 
you love Monsieur George de Santenay, 
and he loves you also tenderly ; and God, 
the protector of innocence, does not ask 
you to sacrifice yourself and your hap- 


OLD DA CLOTS MILLION. 


129 


piness. If you do not want to receive 
any dowry from your father, very well. 
But instead of having said harshly 
to your betrothed, ‘ I will not marry,’ 
you would have done better to have 
informer! him of the whole situation. 
And he, no less honest and straightfor- 
ward than yourself, would have understood 
the delicacy of your position, and the old 
general, who admires integrity and all that is 
good, would have found your personal merits 
enough, and your virtues a sufficient dowry.” 

“ Helas ! ma Mere” replied Marthe sor- 
rowfully, “ I should have had to tell George 
the whole truth ! ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ And could I act as my father’s ac- 
cuser ? ” replied Marthe, weeping as she 
said these words. 

“ Poor, dear child ! ” murmured the nun 
compassionately ; and after hesitating a 
moment, she said, “ Your reasoning is just, 
and it explains your scruples. I acknowl- 
edge that you have acted for the best. 


130 


OLD n A CLOTS MILLION. 


Cry, Marthe, cry. I am near you, and your 
tears will ease your heartache. Your tears 
are blessed ; your good guardian angel will 
receive them and present them to God the 
Father and ask him what shall be your 
reward.” 

“ I am very unlucky, ma Mere ! ” cried 
the girl, between her sobs. 

“You are, daughter; but since you have 
come to us, rest assured we will do our best 
to console you. My love and that of the 
Sisters will lessen your grief.” 

“You told me, dear child, that you 
came here for refuge and a home. I am 
glad you did so, and cordially extend to 
you our loving welcome.” 

“ How can I thank you, ma Mere ? ” 

“Still, Marthe, you must tell me what 
you intend doing.” 

“Oh, ma Mere , I do not want to be a 
burden upon the community. I want to 
be of use to you — to work for you.” 

“I am pleased to hear it. What will 
you do ? ” 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


131 


“ Thanks to the thorough education I 
received in this institution under your 
good care, ma Mere , I was able to re- 
ceive my diploma as a school teacher. 
Now I wish to consecrate myself to 
God, also to be a teacher. Have you 
not a class of little girls to give me ? If 
you have not one here, I am sure, with 
your recommendation, the Superioress-Gen- 
eral of your Order will find a place for 
me in one of the convents that are de- 
voted to the gratuitous education of girls 
under her kind rule. From to-morrow, 
my dear mother, I wish to wear the 
habit of a novice of your order, and 
prepare myself for taking the black veil 
when I shall be found worthy.” 

“ My dear child,” replied the nun, 
“you shall have a class to teach here, 
of our own pupils. Still, as I am obliged, 
I will refer your request to our Su- 
perioress-General. She knows you, and I 
know that her answer will be in con- 
formity to your wishes. So you shall 


132 


OLD DAO LOTS MILLION. 


stay with us and wear the habit of a 
novice. But about taking the veil, 
Marthe, that is quite another thing, as 
nothing you have hitherto said to me in- 
dicates that you feel called upon to be 
the bride of our Lord. To enter into a 
religious life, to pronounce the vows of 
eternal renunciation of worldly desires, 
requires a special vocation. There are 
sacrifices that God does not accept. He 
desires that the hearts that are to be His 
shall be free ; and yours, my daughter, 
has been given to another. We will make 
your novitiate a long one, and, my child, 
something tells me that your beautiful 
hair will never fall under the steel shears 
on the sanctuary steps ! 

Marthe’s tears ceased to flow, and 
throwing herself on her knees before the 
venerable nun, she cried, “ Ma Mere , give 
me your blessing ! ” 

The religieuse took the girl’s head be- 
tween her hands and kissed her fondly 
and tenderly on the forehead. 


OLD BALLOT'S MILLION. 


133 


“ I give yon my blessing, my child ; 
but you are already more blessed than 
by any blessing I could impart. Our 
Lord has already blessed you ! ” 

Then she spoke in a voice of gentle 
authority : “ Rise from your knees and 

wipe your eyes, Marthe ! ” 

She herself arose and went to the bell- 
rope and rang the bell. 

Almost instantly a lay sister answered 
the summons. 

“ My daughter,” said the Superior, “ in 
a little while the pupils will have their 
recreation. Go and tell Sister Angela that 
I wish her to call the Sisters to the large 
community reception-room, and when they 
are all assembled there, come and inform 
me of the fact.” 

The lay sister bowed respectfully, and 
silently retired. A moment after the large 
bell rang to announce that the session was 
over, and soon the lay sister appeared. 

“ Ma Mere” she said, “ all the Sisters 
are in the Grand Salle.” 


134 


OLD RACLOT S MILLION. 


Then the Superior said to Marthe : “ Come, 
daughter, let us go and see our Sisters.” 

With the exception of the lay sisters, 
all the nuns, some eighteen in number, 
were in the reception-room of the com- 
munity. The Sisters were standing up, si- 
lent, but exchanging rapid and questioning 
glances at this hasty and unexplained 
summons. Evidently they were to be told 
something of serious importance respecting 
their old pupil, whom they already knew 
had been in conference with the Reverend 
Mother. 

When she entered the Salle with Mar- 
the’s hand in liers, the nuns all bowed 
their heads in salutation. 

“My dear Sisters,” said the Superior, 
“for many reasons which I need not ex- 
plain to you, Mademoiselle Raclot has de- 
cided not to marry. She has the desire 
to consecrate her life to God, and vow it, 
as you have all done, my dear children, 
to the instruction of young girls who are 
confided to our care. Mademoiselle Raclot 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


135 


has asked me to witness her desire to 
become an Ursuline nun, and to make her 
novitiate among us, and at the same time 
teach, which she can do, as she received 
the government diploma. To-day I will 
write to our Superior-General.” 

Sister Angela, who, like the Reverend 
Mother, had a particular affection for 
Marthe, began to cry, thoroughly compre- 
hending that if the young girl had re- 
nounced marriage, it was through some 
unforeseen misfortune. Some of the other 
nuns also shed a few tears out of sym- 
pathy. Turning toward some of the 
younger nuns, the Superior said: 

“ Sister Frances Estelle, you have now 
thirty-live pupils in your class, which are 
divided into three divisions. After to-mor- 
row, Mademoiselle Raclot will take the 
sixth class, and as soon as I hear from 
the Superior-General, we will establish a 
seventh class, taken from your division, 
and that of Sister Helene, so that Marthe 
will have about twenty scholars.” 


136 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION . 


After the Reverend Mother had ceased 
speaking, Sister Angela asked and received 
permission for herself and the other Sis- 
ters to kiss the new novice. 

Directly after this, before the dinner 
bell rang, the Superior took Marthe to a 
small room in the nuns’ part of the build- 
ing. Henceforth this was to be her cell. 

A few days later Marthe wore the habit 
of a novice of the Order of St. Ursula. 


IX. 


At Aubecourt and the surrounding villages, 
the gossips had plenty to talk about. As 
Marthe had surmised, they did not hesitate 
to say that the marriage had been broken 
off by M. de Santenay as soon as they 
learned the true character of Marthe Raclot’s 
father. And as there are always persons 
who add inventions of their own to popular 
calumny, there were some, in this case, who 
said that when the old general heard of 
Raclot’s mean and wicked extortions, he got 
into a frightful rage, so much so, that his 
anger had induced a fearful attack of his 
old enemy, the gout. After having given 
these fabricated details, the gossiper would 
conclude with : 

“ All the same, under these circumstances, 
no self-respecting young man could espouse 
the daughter of that old horse leech, Mathu- 

137 


138 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


rin Raclot. But Marthe has left the neigh- 
borhood. Of course she could not remain 
here after such a contretemps . The only 
thing left for her was to hide her discom- 
fiture elsewhere. Where has she gone to ? ” 

On this subject the gossips professed igno- 
rance. Some said to Paris, where she would 
easily console herself with the gay life in the 
capital. Others were more mysterious, say- 
ing that as she could not be the wife of the 
young engineer, she had become his mistress. 

Some others did not hesitate to say that 
the daughter of the old villain R-aclot, in her 
anger at seeing her marriage broken off, had 
eloped with the senior clerk of Monsieur 
Poncelet, the notary. The clerk had been 
seen often going to the chateau to see Mon- 
sieur Raclot, who had been a client of the 
former notary Poncelet, and he had been 
seen talking to Marthe two or three times. 
This, however, was not significant of itself, 
but what gave it importance now was that 
the clerk had left Monsieur Rousselet, with- 
out saying a word as to where he was going, 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


139 


the evening of the day that Marthe Raclot 
fled her father’s home. 

Of course this gossip found many incredu- 
lous hearers, but still the young girl’s name 
and reputation suffered through being 
dragged through the mire. 

The old nurse heard all the talk of this 
one and that, also all the unkind things that 
were not only hinted, but spoken openly, 
about her cherished one, and felt indignant 
and furious that she could not tear the lying 
tongues of the gossips out by their roots ; 
but Marthe had ordered her to let them say 
as they would, and forbid her to take up the 
cudgel in her defense. “Ah, if she could 
only have choked the liars with their own 
words ! ” How delighted she would have 
been. She did not care what or how they 
vilified old Pere Raclot ; he deserved all 
their maledictions, but to gossip about her 
Marthe; to soil her spotless reputation as 
they were doing ; the child she had nursed 
at her own breast, and she could not defend 
her ! She was under oath to remain silent. 


140 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


Why, her very silence gave credit to the vile 
utterances which were bandied about, and 
appeared as if she held common cause with 
the scandal-mongers. The good woman felt 
more her obligation to remain quiet than the 
vile lies she could not repudiate. Often she 
asked herself, “ Where is Marthe now ? 
what is she doing ? Oh, my poor darling, 
how broken-hearted she must be, and how 
many bitter tears she has shed ! ” 

However, she knew how devotedly at- 
tached the Ursulines were to their old pupil, 
and knew that Marthe reciprocated their 
affection ; and felt more at ease, when she 
recalled all their kindness to her loved fos- 
ter-child, and she did not believe they would 
abandon her now. Besides, Marthe was an 
angel, and the good Lord would protect her. 

Mere Langier was a kind, indulgent wo- 
man, and had never had a feeling of hatred 
or malice toward any one ; still, she could 
not restrain a feeling o’f intense anger against 
Mathurin Raclot, whom she inwardly cursed. 


X. 


General Santenay and his daughter 
were stupefied to hear that Mademoiselle 
Kaclot had refused to fulfill her engagement, 
without telling them the reason or giving 
any explanation of her unaccountable con- 
duct. The general found Marthe’s action 
more than strange, but he thought as George 
had done, that there must have been a seri- 
ous reason for her singular resolution. 

Unfortunately, George loved Marthe, and 
the general felt for his son’s disappointment. 
But what could he say ? Nothing. The 
general felt that he had no right to blame 
Marthe. Mathilde cried bitterly, and it took 
all Monsieur de Santenay’s eloquence to con- 
sole his two children, and to show that per- 
haps it was for the best. 

“ Helas / ” replied the young man sadly, 
“ I loved her loo well, and I can never forget 
her.” 

141 


142 


OLD BA CLOT'S MILLION. 


They sent to inform Mademoiselle Lor- 
meau of tire change that Marthe’s decision 
had occasioned. The old lady was less pa- 
cific than her brother. She was very indig- 
nant at the outrageous conduct of “that 
peasant wench/’ as she disdainfully called 
Marthe, to dare to affront her nephew ! It 
was infamous ! And she considered Marthe 
no better than she ought to be. 

“ She is pretty and well educated, but after 
all, what is she but a little peasant, the 
daughter of old Raclot ! Raclot ! What 
kind of a name was Raclot ! How malodor- 
ous it was ! Really, her nephew had been 
too condescending to wish to ally himself 
with shoddy; a new-made rich miss, who 
naturally would like to be able to sign her- 
self Madame de Santenay ! This is what 
people get for being too intimate with their 
inferiors ! ” 

The old lady was red with anger, and she 
did not spare her niece when Mathilde tried 
to take her friend’s part. 

“ It is you, Mathilde, who are the cause 


OLD H AC LOTS MILLION. 


143 


of this insult that has been given us. You 
forgot that you were a lady and the daugh- 
ter of an officer and a gentleman. A young 
lady of your rank does not make friends 
with a peasant wench. She ought to respect 
herself and know how to keep all undesirable 
accpiaintances at a distance, and not stoop to 
familiarities with such as she ! ” 

Here the general interfered, and tried to 
pacify the old lady’s wrath. 

“Eli bien! we will no longer discuss 
Mademoiselle. We will leave her to her 
butter and eggs. I thank God there is no 
lack of nice, rich girls who want to marry, 
and I venture to say we shall not have much 
difficulty in finding a substitute less capri- 
cious than that peasant for George with his 
name and position ; not adding what I pro- 
pose doing for him. He will have an embal- 
ms du choix 

One Saturday, George had to have one of 
the foremen of the construction department 
come to his office. This man was a resident 


144 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


of Aubecourt. After they had talked over 
the business that had brought the man to his 
chiefs office, the young engineer asked the 
man shyly and hesitatingly, dreading to pro- 
nounce the name, how Mademoiselle and 
Monsieur Raclot were. 

“Sir,” replied the foreman, “Monsieur is 
always well. One could almost believe that 
he possesses the power of rejuvenating him- 
self ; but as to Mademoiselle Marthe, I can- 
not tell you if her health is good, because she 
has left Aubecourt.” 

“ You say she is no longer in Aubecourt ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Where is she ? ” 

“ I am unable to tell you, sir.” 

“ How long is it since she left Aubecourt, 
my good fellow ? ” 

“ She left the village as soon as we heard 
that her marriage with you was broken off, 
sir.” 

The young man trembled violently. 

“ And you say that no one knows where 
Mademoiselle Eaclot went ? ” 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


145 


“ I have already had the honor to so inform 
you, sir.” 

“ To what cause do the gossipers attribute 
her departure ? ” 

“That she left when she found out that 
her marriage would not be celebrated.” 

“ Ah ! so they really say this ? ” 

“Yes, sir; and many other things, too. 
For example, though they can but admire 
your honorable action in refusing to wed her, 
every one was astonished when it was an- 
nounced that Monsieur George de Santenay 
would espouse the daughter of such an old 
villain as Mathurin Raclot, who is abhorred 
not only in his native place, but throughout 
the whole county. Evidently, your father, 
when he allowed you to become engaged, did 
not know the vile character of old Raclot, or he 
would not now have broken the engagement.” 

George could have told the foreman that 
the breaking of the match was none of his 
father’s work, but Marthe’s own ; but he con- 
sidered it better to allow the man to think as 
he liked. 


146 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


“ So, Monsieur Raclot is not quite a saint ? ” 
“ On tliis subject, sir, you need not inquire, 
as evidently you are better informed than I.” 

The young man, though all too eager to 
learn, discreetly kept silent. He felt a re- 
pugnance to inquire too closely. 

“ However,” continued George, “ I am al- 
ways interested in Mademoiselle Raclot’s wel- 
fare, and these words which you spoke, say- 
ing that the gossipers say ‘ many other 
things,’ excite my curiosity. I should like to 
hear the different opinions expressed regard- 
ing Mademoiselle Marthe’s leaving home.” 

“ There has been so much said, sir, but it’s 
only gossip, as nothing certain is known. 
Only I do not know if I should.” 

“ I must beg of you to ! ” 

“ But. it is a very delicate subject ! ” 

“ Never mind ; out with it ! ” 

“ I am one of those who thought that Made- 
moiselle Raclot left because her marriage no- 
tice had been posted up in the Mayor’s office, 
and the banns published, and she was ashamed 
at the publicity given her. Others say, and 


OLD BALLOT’ S MILLION. 


14V 


I must ask your pardon, sir, for repeating it, 
that you would not have her for your wife, 
but took her as your mistress ! ” 

The young man sprang out of his chair as 
if he had been shot. His face was livid with 
rage, and he exclaimed in an indignant tone : 

“ This is a vile calumny ! It is infamous to 
suppose such a thing ! 11 

“ It has been talked over and gossiped 
about, but I am happy to be able to tell you 
that the story has almost died out.” 

“ It is deplorable that people should be 
capable of imagining such a wicked thing ! ” 

“You are right, sir. However, to-day I 
heard another version of the story. They 
now say that Mademoiselle Martlie and the 
notary’s clerk eloped, and are now living in 
Paris.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried George, putting his hand to 
his heart. 

“ But, sir, remember, it is mere supposition, 
as I have already told you that no one has 
any exact information to give. It seems that 
the clerk did once try to court Mademoiselle 


i48 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


Baclot, as they have been seen together ; and 
as Monsieur Bertillon left Aubecourt at the 
same time as Mademoiselle Eaclot, and no 
one knows why he left, either, or where he 
has gone, they explain his departure by say- 
ing he eloped with her.” 

George felt an iron claw holding his heart 
as if in a vise, and he suffered agony. But 
he was obliged not to give way before the 
foreman, and so he remained outwardly calm 
and collected, as he bade the man good-day, 
and thanked him for his news. 

When he was alone he took his head 
between his hands and clasped his burn- 
ing brow, remaining a long time absorbed 
by dark and horrid thoughts. It was impos- 
sible ! How could Marthe, whom he loved 
so dearly, and would gladly have sacrificed 
everything for, so lower herself as to deceive 
him ! George was crazy with grief. He 
knew Marthe, yet he accused her, poor 
girl! 

Instead of banishing these wicked thoughts, 
as he should have done, by crying “ It’s false ! 


OLD DACLOTS MILLION. 14D 

it’s false ! only a vile calumny ! ” he believed 
what he heard, mad with furious jealousy. 

Still, the foreman had not been sure that 
his story was true, nor had he vouched for any 
particular part of it. The entire gossip was 
only a base supposition. But George, with- 
out pity, either for Marthe or himself, was 
determined to sift the matter until he found 
the truth. 

So Marthe had never loved him ! All her 
endearments were lies ! Oh, how she hid her 
real self, and perhaps she only consented to 
marry him out of vanity and pride, and while 
the poor fool lived in the memory of her 
smiles, she was laughing at his affection with 
a dirty little pettifogging lawyer’s clerk ! 
Doubtless the clerk had said to her : “ I want 
you for myself,” and evidently she had 
listened, as she had told him she “would 
not marry,” and as soon as his back was 
turned she had eloped with her lover. 

Such were George’s thoughts. 

Poor fellow ! for him the mysterious veil 
was now rent asunder most cruelly ; he now 


150 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


had a key to her hidden language, an ex- 
planation for which he had besought her in 
vain. 

“ Ah ! ” he cried, “ now I will cha*se her 
memory from my heart ! ” But he could not 
console himself so easily. 

The following day he arose betimes, and 
reached his father’s house by ten o’clock. 

George, since he no longer went to Aube- 
court, spent his Sundays home. His aunt, 
Mademoiselle Lormeau, generally selected 
Sunday to pay them a visit, and on this es- 
pecial day, she and her nephew both reached 
the house at about the same time. 

George looked pale and melancholy, and 
his aunt scolded him for wearing such a dis- 
consolate look. 

“ AllonSj my dear nephew,” said she, after 
her sermon, “ you must be reasonable ! ” 

After lunch, while they were drinking 
their coffee, George could not keep his secret 
to himself, so he turned to Mathilde and 
blurted out : 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


151 


“ My dear sister, I have something to 
tell you that will both pain and surprise 
you, as it has done me ! ” 

“ What is this astonishing news, brother ? ” 
she inquired laughingly. 

“ Mademoiselle Marthe has left Aube- 
court ! ” 

“ Ah, indeed ! ” cried Mathilde. 

“ She left her father’s roof without saying 
where she was going, and no one knows 
where she is.” 

“Do you know how long it is since she 
left?” 

“Yes, I am informed most exactly. She 
left the next day after my last visit to the 
cMteau.” 

Mathilde was silent for a moment, and 
then said : 

“ And you say no one knows her where- 
abouts ? ” 

“ No one.” 

“ Still, it’s not difficult to guess.” 

“ Can you guess where she is ? ” 


152 


OLD IlAOLOT'S MILLION. 


“ Yes, brother; for if Marthe left her 
father’s roof, there is only one place to find 
her in.” 

“ Where is that ? ” 

“ At the convent where she and I were 
educated.” 

The young man hid a smile, and said : 

“ Perhaps she may be there.” 

“ George, I am of the same opinion as your 
sister,” said the general. “ All circumstances 
lead me to believe that Marthe left her 
father for the same reasons that caused her 
to refuse you.” 

As we can well believe, George did not 
breathe one word regarding the current re- 
ports that were rife in Aubecourt. 

“Yes,” continued the general musingly, 
“ Marthe had reasons for acting as she did. 
What, however, could they have been? I 
should like to know. ” 

“ W e shall learn what they are some day, 
father,” said Mathilde earnestly. 

“ Yes, I will know them ! ” echoed Made- 
moiselle Lormeau. “You can be sure of 


OLD R ALLOTS MILLION. 


153 


that. And when I begin to investigate, no 
grass will grow under my feet ; and on this 
matter I propose to devote serious ways and 
means.” 

“ You, aunt ! ” 

“ Yes, niece. I was, not long since, at a 
dinner given by the Monieres on their daugh- 
ter’s return from her wedding tour. My 
neighbor at the dinner table was a Monsieur 
Rousselet, who bought the practice of old 
Poncelet at Aubecourt. I have been invited 
to the Monieres’ silver wedding. I shall see 
Monsieur Rousselet, and I shall make it my 
business to inquire all about the Raclots. I 
have always found the village notary the 
best person to make inquiries from. He is 
the head receiver of all the county gossip. 
Don’t you think I am right, brother ? ” 

“ Perfectly so,” replied the general. 

“And I, father, will accompany you to 
town this week, and find out, by visiting the 
convent, if my conclusions were not right, for 
I believe Marthe has become a novice.” 


XI. 


On the following Thursday General de 
Santenay had some business in town, and 
according to her promise, Mathilde accom- 
panied him, and while her father transacted 
his business, she went to visit the nuns. 

As usual, she was received by Sister Louise 
in the parlor. In a few minutes some of the 
other nuns came in to kiss and welcome her. 

Mathilde had asked to see the Superior, 
but the Sister informed her that the Reverend 
Mother was too ill to receive visitors, but 
that they would be certain to tell her that 
Mademoiselle de Santenay had called. 
Mathilde, without showing any anxiety, 
asked to speak with Sister Angela, who slie 
knew was very fond of Marthe Raclot. 

Sister Angela did not delay answering the 
call, and came at once to see Mathilde, and 
showed by her haste the pleasure she felt in 
being asked for. 


154 


OLD RACLOT S MILLION. 


155 


“My dear Mathilde,” slie said, “the Sister 
who called me smid you wanted to see me. 
Come into the garden. As it is Thursday all 
the pupils are in the grounds with the other 
Sisters.” 

Mathilde followed the Sister, and they 
walked up and down. Mathilde watched the 
groups of girls to see if she could discover 
Marthe Raclot, but in vain, for the young 
novice had quickly sought the refuge of 
her cell when she learned of her friend’s 
visit. 

“ Sister Angela,” said Mathilde, “ I ex- 
pected to find Marthe Raclot here.” 

“ Marthe Raclot ! ” said the nun, pretend- 
ing to be surprised. “Did she ask you to 
meet her here ? ” 

“ No, Sister.” 

“ Then I do not know what you mean ! ” 

“ Well, Sister, I thought she had been here 
for the past two months.” 

“ What made you think that, child ? ” 

“ Because she left her home.” 

“ How is that ? ” said the nun, who was ev- 


156 


OLD RAO LOT’S MILLION. 


idently under orders to say nothing, “ is she 
no longer at Aubecourt ? ” • 

“ For the.past two months, as I have told 
you, sister, Marthe has been from home. 
Where could I expect to find her, save with 
you all, whom she loves so much ? ” 

- “Assuredly, dear Mathilde, we all love and 
respect Marthe Kaclot, and our house is al- 
ways open to her. But you know that Ma- 
demoiselle Raclot has a government diploma 
and license to teach in any part of France. 
So perhaps she has taken a governess’s situa- 
tion in some young ladies’ school.” 

After this reply, Mathilde had no further 
questions to ask. She left with the convic- 
tion that Marthe had not entered the commu- 
nity. 

On the following Saturday, Monsieur and 
Madame Moniere gave their dinner party to 
celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniver- 
sary. Mademoiselle Lormeau was one of the 
guests. When she found herself seated next 
to her hosts’ son-in-law, Lawyer Rousselet, 
she was delighted at this most excellent 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


157 


opportunity to gain tlie information she so 
ardently desired. 

The notary was a most fascinating young 
man, and by his tact and politeness quite 
captivated the old lady, who felt entirely at 
her ease with her agreeable table companion. 
In fact, she was so charmed that she declared 
she would make him her lawyer. 

“ Bravo ! ” cried Monsieur Moniere laugh- 
ing, “ here is a rich client for my son-in-law ! ” 

After dinner there was to be music and a 
dance, and when the guests were tired of 
dancing, there were recitations and singing. 

While at dinner, the old lady did not fail 
to speak of her nephew, George de Santenay, 
and tell her neighbor how well he was get- 
ting along as a government engineer. She 
was so proud of her sister’s son’s future great- 
ness. For certainly Mademoiselle Lormeau 
was most anxious to hear what Monsieur 
Rousselet would say, but he, like a prudent 
man, listened, and as there were strangers at 
the table who might repeat his conversation, 
he preserved a discreet silence. 


158 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


During the evening, while a young lady 
was singing and trying to play the “ Fille du 
Regiment,” he came and sat by Mademoiselle 
Lormeau. 

“ So, Mademoiselle, you are George de 
Santenay’s aunt ? ” 

“ Do you know my nephew, Monsieur ? 

“ I ought to, from all the nice things I hear 
spoken of him, but, unfortunately, I only 
know him by sight.” 

“ He was very much in love with a certain 
Marthe Raclot, and the breaking off of the 
match caused him great grief. We find it 
out of our power to console him. Will you 
do me a favor, Monsieur Rousselet, and tell 
me why Marthe Raclot declined to marry my 
nephew, and declined to give any reason ? ” 

“ What ! ” said the lawyer, in surprise, 
“ was it Mademoiselle Raclot who refused to 
marry your nephew ? ” 

“Yes, Monsieur.” 

“ Eh bien ! Mademoiselle, everybody in 
Aubecourt thinks the shoe is on the other foot, 
and that your nephew refused to marry her ! ” 


OLD RACLOT S MILLION. 


159 


“ If people think that, they are mistaken. 
Truth is truth. George cle Santenay was 
obliged to submit to an affront ; but it does 
not wound our honor, thank God, and’ we 
have no cause to blush.” 

“ Surely not ; and Monsieur George may 
gain in respect and esteem by not having 
married Marthe Raclot.” 

“ I know that Monsieur Raclot is a rich 
landed proprietor at Aubecourt.” 

“ Is that all you know ? ” 

“ I was never in Aubecourt,” replied Made- 
moiselle Lormeau, “ nor have I seen the gen- 
tleman," and know absolutely nothing about 
him, save that he is wealthy.” 

“ Alors ! you do not know that twenty-five 
years ago he was only a plowman, earning 
about two hundred francs a year ?” 

“ I was not aware of that, Monsieur, but I 
suppose he inherited his wealth ? 

“Do you know the extent of his fortune?” 
replied the lawyer, evading the old lady’s 
question adroitly. 

“ Mon Dieu ! no, Monsieur ; and I assure 


160 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. \ 


you that neither my brother-in-law nor nephew 
ever discussed that question.” 

“What amount of money did Monsieur 
propose giving his daughter ? ” inquired the 
lawyer. 

“ Fifty thousand francs.” 

“ He was not very generous ! ” said Mon- 
sieur Rousselet, laughingly. “ Eh bien ! 
Mademoiselle, one can certainly assess Mon- 
sieur Raclot’s wealth at a million and a half.” 

“ Impossible ! ” exclaimed Mademoiselle 
Lormeau. 

“ In real estate alone, Monsieur Raclot has 
over a million francs’ worth ; even if sold at 
auction it would realize that, and I am sure 
that he has over four hundred thousand in 
government securities, and money in his safe. 
And so he only offered to give his daughter 
fifty thousand francs, did he ? when, in fact, 
she is entitled to half his fortune on her mar- 
riage, as her mother’s heiress, who was mar- 
ried under the common property act ! After 
this, Mademoiselle, you can begin to judge 
Mathurin Raclot.” 


OLD RAO LOTS MILLION. 


161 


“ Dame ! I don’t think lie acted honestly 
by his daughter ! ” 

“ I do not know why Mademoiselle refused 
to marry your nephew, except that her father 
forced her to. It would not at all surprise 
me if he had done so, because he was afraid 
that he would be called upon to render an 
account of his stewardship.” 

“ Why, he is a miser ! ” cried the old lady. 

“ If he was only a miser ! ” 

“You frighten me, Monsieur Rousselet ! 
I have nothing against his daughter. I have 

o o o 

only seen her a few times — and she appeared 
a quiet and modest girl — at the Ursulines’ 
with my niece, Mathilde de Santenay.” 

“ I knew that, Mademoiselle ; and so that 
is how your families became acquainted, I 
suppose ? ” 

“Yes; and my nephew’s love for Marthe 
Raclot is the result of the girls’ friendship. 
I have seen Mademoiselle Raclot at my 
brother-in-law’s house. She is a charming 
young girl to all accounts. No one would 
say she was the daughter of a peasant, as she 


162 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


is so distinguished-looking and gracious, and 
has the tact to make herself liked by every 
one, by the gentleness and sweetness of her 
manners. So much did I admire her agree- 
able and sweet disposition, that I was de- 
lighted to think that my nephew had selected 
such a paragon as she appeared.” 

“Unfortunately, she is the daughter of 
Mathurin Raclot, Mademoiselle, and in spite 
of her immense wealth, for she will inherit 
his, and her kind manners and distinguished 
appearance; instead of regretting that he did 
not marry her, you ought to be delighted to 
think he escaped such a mesalliance 

“ Why, Monsieur ? ” 

“ Because, if he had married her, he would 
have lost the respect of all honest people.” 

“ My goodness ! Monsieur Roussel et, what 
is Monsieur Raclot, to be such a bugbear that 
even his daughter shares in his disgrace ? ” 

“ A man without the smallest atom of con- 
science, Mademoiselle.” 

“ Oh!” 

“But the means whereby he gained his 


163 


OLD RACLOT* 8 MILLION, 

immense fortune are known to every one 
within miles,” continued the notary, “ and if I 
were kis lawyer I should certainly have to 
keep his secrets ; but I would not be for any 
price. Why, the echo of a thousand indig- 
nant voices would ring in my ears. I have 
no business relations of any description with 
Monsieur Raclot, and I consider I am doing 
the De Santenays a great service wdien I en- 
lighten them upon the character of the man 
wdiose daughter George de Santenay was on 
the point of marrying. A little while after 
I purchased Monsieur Poncelet’s law prac- 
tice and took up my residence in Aubecourt, 
I found out through common rumor, and 
also verified by many papers that my prede- 
cessor had in his possession belonging to 
Monsieur Raclot, the character of his busi- 
ness methods. I went and saw Monsieur 
Raclot and told him point blank that I 
would not attend to his affairs, and that he 
had better employ another lawyer. When 
we are obliged to furnish any information, I 
make my chief clerk attend to it.” 


164 OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 

Here, very briefly, tlie notary told the old 
lady the unscrupulous ways of the old 
usurer. 

“ Ah ! what a villain he is ! And think of 
his giving himself the air of a feudal seig- 
neur ! ” And my nephew almost married 
his daughter! This thought caused Made- 
moiselle Lormeau to shudder. 

“ Now, Mademoiselle,” continued the law- 
yer, “ you understand why I said that your 
nephew was to be congratulated upon his 
fortunate escape.” 

“ Ah, Monsieur ! if they had been mar- 
ried, and we ignorant of the dreadful things 
you have just told me, what a disgrace it 
would have been for our family ! What a 
fearful man old Raclot must be, if his own 
daughter had to leave him ! ” 

“ So you know she left him ? ” 

“Yes, Monsieur, I know she left, but for 
what reason ? I do not know ; do you ? ” 

“ At Aubecourt they are no better informed 
than you are.” 

“ They ought to know where she is hiding.” 


OLD It AC LOTS MILLION. 


165 


“No one ventures even to guess, as lier de- 
parture was so abrupt.” 

“ Par example , decidedly, Monsieur, this 
young girl is a living puzzle ! ” 

“ I know one thing, Mademoiselle ; she did 
her reputation no good by leaving Aubecourt 
and her father’s roof so mysteriously; and 
girls’ characters must bear the closest scru- 
tiny. I hope her’s will ! ” 

“ Why so ? ” 

“ By a curious coincidence, my senior clerk 
left Aubecourt the same day as Mademoiselle 
Raclot ! ” 

“ Alois ! Monsieur ! ” 

“ Alois , Mademoiselle, people are saying 
that perhaps they left together ! ” 

“But this is an awful charge to make 
against a young girl’s character. Do you be- 
lieve it ? ” 

“ No, no ; for I never allow myself to draw 
hasty conclusions from mere appearances, 
which are often deceitful. Monsieur Bertil- 
lon, my clerk, is a very intelligent young man, 
but vain and exceedingly susceptible to fern- 


166 


OLD BACLOTS MILLION. 


mine charms. He is also very quick-tem- 
pered. I simply corrected him, perhaps rather 
sharply, and he walked out of the office with- 
out having the politeness to inform me that * 
he was leaving. As I have already said, it’s 
a pity that they both left Aubecourt the same 
day, as this coincidence has given rise to many 
unkind remarks toward both of them.” 

“ Yes, it is very unfortunate ! ” murmured 
the old lady, sighing. 

Monsieur liousselet left her to join his 
mother-in-law, who was calling him. The rest 
of the evening Mademoiselle dozed, and she 
left before midnight. 

The following day she went to the general’s 
about eleven in the morning. She was in 
haste to repeat what she had heard the pre- 
vious evening. However, she was obliged to 
wait, as she did not wish to tell her story un- 
til George should be present to hear it also. 
He only arrived as they were sitting down to 
dinner. Still, she had spoken about old 
Raclot and his doings, but the cream of the 
story she saved until the butler had left the 


OLD BACLOTS MILLION. 


107 


dining-room. When that moment arrived, 
they all begged her to speak. 

u JEh, lien ! ” she said, addressing her niece ; 
“ is Mademoiselle Raclot with the nuns ? ” 

“ No, aunt,” replied Mathilde. 

Mademoiselle Lormeau shook her head. 
George’s face paled visibly, and he fidgeted 
in his chair. 

■ “ I have not been able to find out,” said the 
old lady, “ why Martlie Itaclot broke off her 
engagement, nor have I discovered what mo- 
tive induced her *to quit her father’s house. 
Nobody knows. This is another mystery. 
But, for compensation, I have learned a great 
deal about her father ; enough to make one’s 
hair stand up ; and just imagine, we were 
ignorant of it.” With an exactitude that 
showed her memory was by no means im- 
paired, Mademoiselle Lormeau repeated all 
the notary had told her concerning Mathurin 
Raclot, word for word. 

The general and Mathilde were dumb, 
and even George felt stupefied when he 
learned the character of his quondam father- 


168 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


in-law. The old lady continued in a stern 
voice : 

“This only teaches ns to be more care- 
ful ; to do nothing precipitately, but move 
slowly, and above all things find out who 
people are. As the lawyer himself said, 
George, you are to be felicitated on your 
lucky escape. Ah, my dear nephew, what 
a fortunate thing you received your conge ! ^ 

The young man remained silent, and 
hung his head. 

“ My- sister,” said the general, “ we were 
wrong not to have inquired more closely 
into the character of the family of Marthe, 
but you, like the rest of us, liked and loved 
her almost at first sight. We were capti- 
vated by her adorable character and her 
good qualities.” 

“ Yes,” said Mademoiselle Lormeau, “ but 
this only proves that we were too prema- 
ture ; but, God be praised, we are safe and 
sound, and our family honor is saved. And, 
George,” continued his aunt more kindly, 
all you have to do, is to get over this fool- 


OLD R ALLOTS MLLLLON. 


169 


ish fancy as fast as you can, and cast your 
eye around for some well-bred young lady, 
who will be a credit both to you and your 
family.” 

“ My sister,” replied the general to this 
tirade, seeing George was silent, “ surely 
George will no longer think of Marthe ; but, 
because her father is an old scoundrel we 
must not condemn her. She has not lost any 
of her virtues or goodness, and in my eyes 
she will always be the same good girl as I 
have reckoned my daughter’s friend to be.” 

“ Oh, brother ! how good you are to 
speak so kindly of her ! ” said the old lady 
admiringly. 

“ Yes, and I will go further, and say that 
Mademoiselle Marthe Raclot is one of the 
noblest girls that I know, and I sincerely 
regret that she cannot be my son’s wife ; 
another daughter to console my old age. 
And I would add, she is entitled to the 
respect ' and admiration of you all.” 

“ Truly, General ! ” cried Mademoiselle 
Lormeau, “I do not understand you!” 


no 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION t 


George raised his head and looked at his 
father in surprise. 

“ My sister ; my children ; ” continued the 
old man, more animated than usual, “ I 
asked myself the question why she left 
her home and why she discarded my son ? 
Well, now I know the reason. Marthe 
heard by some means or other about her 
father’s cruel and inhuman acts, and I say 
with a certainty, that this awful discovery 
is the true and only reason of her flight 
and refusal to marry ! ” 

“ Yes ! yes ! father ! ” cried Mathilde. 
“ You are right ! I am sure of it ! ” 

George appeared as if just awakened. 
Still Mademoiselle Lormeau was not entirely 
convinced. She sat stern and upright on her 
chair, with an incredulous smile upon her 
lips. 

“ Ah, the poor girl ! The brave girl ! ” 
cried the general, giving way to his enthu- 
siasm. 

Mathilde, whose eyes were brimming with 
moisture, threw herself on her father's breast, 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


171 


and rained tears of joy upon his face. The 
servant at this moment came to announce to 
Matliilde that one of her pensioners was 
waiting for her in the servants’ hall. Ma- 
thilde was very kind to the poor, and this 
woman was a widow with two children, and 
once a week came for provisions, which the 
kind general, out of his meager income, al- 
lowed Matliilde to distribute to all deserving 
poor. 

Mathilde went out, saying, “ I will return 
directly.” 

Mademoiselle Lormeau drew her chair 
close to her brother-in-law’s, and spoke in a 
low voice : “ Y ou must be told, so must 
George, one thing which I could not say be- 
fore Mathilde, and I think you will change 
your tune about that peasant wench when I 
have told you.” And the old lady told the 
general and George how the coincidence of 
Marthe’s flight and the departure of the no- 
tary’s clerk on the same day, was interpreted 
by the gossips of Aubecourt. 

“ I knew that, aunt,” replied George, in a 


172 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


clear, hard voice. “ It’s not only spoken of 
openly in Aubecourt, but throughout the 
county.” 

“If it’s true or false, Marthe Raclot has 
nevertheless lost her reputation ; and as the 
old adage has it : ‘ There is no smoke with- 
out a fire. ’ Where has she gone ? Nobody 
knows ! The other day, Mathilde was cer- 
tain that Marthe had sought refuge with the 
Ursulines ; but we know now that she has 
not. You see, General, that it’s not as clear 
as you imagined ! ” 

“ Poor young girl ! ” murmured the gen- 
eral. 

“ Y ou pity her ? ” 

“Yes, sister; she deserves all our pity 
now ! n 

“So you believe all they say at Aube- 
court ? ” 

The old man’s eyes flashed, as he cried in- 
dignantly, “ What they say in Aubecourt is 
infamous ! The people who say it are cow- 
ardly scoundrels ! People who are self-re- 
specting do not sully a young girl’s fair fame 
on supposition, and if I heard any one say 


173 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 

aught derogatory about her, I would knock 
him down ! ” 

“ AlorSy my brother. You do not be- 
lieve ” 

“ I believe such a tissue of lies ? Never ! 
never ! I have the honor to know Martlie 
Raclot; and because I know her, I would 
defend her character as I would my own 
daughter’s, if it were assailed ; and I, if called 
upon, will fight any man who dares to de- 
fame her ! ” 

“ Oh, father ! father ! how happy you make 
me ! ” cried George, in tears. “ But if you 

knew ! but if you knew ” 

“ If I knew what ? ” 

“ My father,” replied the young man, “ I 
am one of those miserable cowards to whom 
your indignant words have struck home ! ” 

“ You, George ! ” 

“ Father, I thought Marthe was guilty ! ” 

“ Then you no longer love her ? ” 

“ I love her more now than I ever did ! ” 

“ Ah ! ” cried the general, in a reproachful 
voice, “ you doubted her, George ! you, who 
ought to have defended her against all the 


174 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


world ! To whom could she extend her sup- 
pliant hands, this poor, dear, unfortunate 
girl, if those who knew and loved her aban- 
doned her in her sorrow ! ” 

“ Father, I am ashamed for ever having 
listened to the wicked thought. I regret it 
bitterly, and ask Marthe’s pardon humbly ! ” 

“ Like you, General,’ 7 said the old lady, “ I 
would like to think that Marthe Ilaclot had 
been calumniated, but she is still her father’s 
daughter, and can your son ever hope to wed 
her ? ” 

“That is another question entirely,” re- 
plied the general. “ We will reserve our 
right to defend her innocence, and not re- 
fuse her any token of our regard and esteem. 
But both my son and I recognize what we 
owe to our honor and self-respect, and what 
we owe to public opinion. George can no 
longer think of marrying Marthe Raclot, as it 
is a matter of parentage.” 

“ A la honne Tieure ! ” approved the old 
lady. 

The young man let a long sigh escape him. 


XII. 


Three months passed without any change 
in the situation. No one had yet been able 
to discover if Marthe was with the nuns. 
George de Santenay could not forget her, nor 
she him. 

The~young novice thought it would be a 
long time before she would be reconciled to 
consecrate her life to God’s service as a re- 
ligieuse. 

This was the beautiful month of April, and 
one afternoon Monsieur Itaclot went to his 
farm at Nones to look over the fields that had 
just been sown in wheat, when he was seized 
with a paralytic shock. His farm hands ran 
to his assistance, and hastily contrived a lit- 
ter to carry him to the carriage to take him 
to Aubecourt, where a man had been sent on 
post haste to have the doctor in attendance. 
The stroke was only partial, and there was 
no danger of death. 


175 


176 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION, \ 


Monsieur Kaclot, who was afraid of death, 
felt reassured at the doctor’s words. In 
about a week, thanks to the good care he 
had received from his servants, he was up 
and about, only he could not use his left arm, 
and the left side of his face was drawn and 
completely distorted. Monsieur Raclot con- 
sidered this only a trifling thing, since his 
brain was as clear and active as usual. 

But the doctor had told him that great 
care must be taken not to incur another 
stroke by too close attention to his worldly 
affairs, for if he had another, it might result 
seriously. 

These words of warning troubled Eaclot’s 
peace of mind considerably, and hung like 
the sword of Damocles over his head. Day 
and night he thought over them, and could 
not sleep for the fear of never awaking. 
Death was always before his eyes. He tried 
hard to rid himself of this thought, saying it 
was foolish; but the fear of death followed 
him like his shadow. 

However, this fear did not prevent him 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. Hi 

from purchasing the farm which was for sale 
at Salaie, which lie had wanted for a long 
time. The owner was in need of a sum of 
ready money, and Raclot, through his lawyer, 
had already offered him about half its value. 
He had refused the offer with disdain ; but 
he found no purchaser with cash. This 
Mathurin knew, and the rich peasant smiled, 
as he muttered : 

“ He’ll have to come to my terms ; he will 
sell it ! ” 

One evening, after dinner, which he had 
eaten with a good appetite, Mathurin Raclot 
retired, chuckling over the thought that in 
less than a week the farm at Salaie would be 
his. 

On the following day the master of Aube- 
court did not rise at his usual hour, and 
toward nine o’clock the housekeeper thought 
she had better go and ascertain the cause ; so 
she entered her master’s room. She found 
him in bed with his eyes open, but he w r as 
motionless. At first the woman thought he 
was dead, but she saw he had heard her 


178 


OLD BALLOT'S MILLION. 


heavy footsteps, and seeing that his eyes 
were looking at her, she cast a glance of un- 
reasoning terror on her prostrate master. 
However, she had sense enough' left to 
realize that she must fetch the doctor at 
once. 

When the physician came and examined 
Monsieur Raclot, he bowed his head and left 
the room, and said : 

“ He is dying, and has only a few hours to 
live ! ” 

The old man could only utter a few disjoint- 
ed words, without being able to say two on 
the same subject ; but though his lips refused 
to speak, his brain was keenly alive to what 
was going on. Do not think he was wishing 
that his only child was at his side ; oh, no ; 
lie was thinking of but one thing ; the farm 
at Salaie. The only distinct words he uttered, 
that his attendants could understand, ivere: 
“ I will have it ! — I can make a profit — he 
must sell ! ” 

Land, always land ; to increase his already 
immense possessions. 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


179 


Did lie realize how near he was to the por- 
tals of the hereafter? The sand in life’s 
hour-glass was running slowly, but surely, 
and the doctor said: “He has only a few 
hours left ! ” 

Without loss of time they informed the 
mayor and the county justice, who lived in 
the neighboring town, to come and take 
Mathurin’s last words and affix the seals to 
his property when lie should be dead. 

“If they only knew where to find his 
daughter,” said the mayor to those who had 
time to listen. 

The old nurse heard what trouble the 
mayor was in, that he had no means of in- 
forming Mademoiselle Kaclot of her father’s 
dying condition. So the old peasant attired 
herself in her best Sunday clothes and went 
to the mayor’s house. 

“ Monsieur,” she said, “ if you wish to find 
Mademoiselle Raclot at once, send a mounted 
messenger to the Ursuline convent ! ” 

“ Do you think the nuns know where she 
is?” 


180 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION, \ 


“ I am sure they do, Monsieur ! ” 

“In that case I will follow your advice, 
and at once send a messenger.” 

It was almost four o’clock in the after- 
noon, and by the time the mayor’s horse had 
been fed and watered, and the servant 
dressed in his official costume, it was five 
o’clock before the man left Aubecourt on his 
errand. 

They already knew in the village that the 
mayor’s man had gone to fetch Marthe Ra- 
clot at the convent. 

“ Oh, yes ; they will find her with the 
nuns ! ” said the gossips ironically. 

They were the ones the old woman called 
viper-tongued. 

It was near midnight when the man re- 
turned to Aubecourt. He had done his er- 
rand and seen the Reverend Mother in the 
convent parlor, and he informed his master, 
the mayor, that Marthe Raclot would reach 
home by nine o’clock the next morning. 

Monsieur Raclot died at 10 p.m. At seven 
o’clock the mayor had sent three of his most 


OLD RAO LOT'S MILLION. 


181 


trusty officers to the chateau to watch and 
guard the property. So if Marthe Raclot 
arrived, as the servant said she would, by 
9 a.m., the justice of the peace would not be 
obliged to affix his seals to the establishment 
and all valuables. 

About a quarter of an hour after the ser- 
vant left the convent, the Superior called 
Marthe into her room and informed her of 
her father’s serious illness, also that his hours 
were numbered. The girl wished to leave 
at once for her home, but the Reverend 
Mother told her that under no consideration 
could she permit her to travel on the lonely 
country road during the night ; also at this 
hour it would be next to impossible to get a 
conveyance. 

“ My dear child,” added the Superior, “ I 
have already given orders to have a carriage 
here at six o’clock in the morning, and as I 
cannot permit you to return to Aubecourt 
alone, I have asked Sister Angela to accom- 
pany you home.” 

Marthe thanked the nun and withdrew, 


182 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION. 


trying to suppress her sobs. Something told 
her that she would never see her fathei* 
alive, and she would be too late to close his 
sightless eyes. 

It is a long, wearisome route between 
Aubecourt and the town; so mountainous 
and rough that the horses have to walk al- 
most all the way. The carriage that con- 
veyed Sister Angela and Marthe was an 
old-fashioned cabriolet. Luckily the weather 
was fine and the air balmy, so that the open 
vehicle was no disadvantage. They had 
seated themselves as best they could on the 
narrow seat, leaving room for a stool for the 
driver to sit upon. The travelers were about 
three miles from Aubecourt, when they came 
to a hill. At the foot of the hill the driver 
got down to walk up. When they were half- 
way up the incline they heard the sound of 
wheels behind them. There was a pretty 
little village cart and a nice fat pony trying 
to pass the Rosin ante of the hack driver. 
The village cart had two occupants, an old 
man and a young girl. The old gentleman 


OLD HAG LOTS MILLION. 


183 


was driving. Suddenly the girl cried joy- 
ously : 

“ It’s Sister Angela, papa ! It’s one of our 
Sisters ! ” 

The nun quickly turned and saluted the 
general and Mademoiselle de Santenay, while 
Marthe, who had kept her face closely veiled, 
also turned. 

Two exclamations, one of surprise, the 
other of joy, crossed each other. 

“ Marthe ! ” 

“ Mathilde ! ” 

“ Stop, driver ! ” cried Mathilde to the 
hackman. 

He did so at once, and the poor horse gave 
a neigh of pleasure at this unexpected treat ; 
the pony also stopped. 

Mathilde jumped out of her cart and went 
over to the cabriolet; putting her arms 
around Marthe’s waist she drew her toward 
her and kissed her delightedly. Marthe also 
kissed Mathilde’s rosy cheeks with love and 
affection. 

“ Marthe ! Marthe ! are you not glad to see 


184 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


me, dearest ? ” exclaimed Mathilde, in the ex- 
uberance of her joy. 

“ Yes, indeed I am ! ” 

“ But you look so broken-hearted, and are 
crying ! What is the matter ? ” 

“ I was informed last evening that my 
father was dying. Sister Angela is accom- 
panying me to Aubecourt, but I shall arrive 
there too late.” 

u Alovs ! dear Marthe ! I understand why 
you are so sorrowful,” said Mathilde gravely. 

“ But this costume that you have on ? ” 

“ It is the habit of a novice,” replied Sister 
Angela quickly. 

“ Why, Marthe ! ” exclaimed Mademoi- 
selle, “ are you going to be a nun ? ” 

“ Yes, Mathilde, if God gives me the 
necessary grace!” 

“ So, Sister,” continued the general’s 
daughter, “ Marthe was in the convent, 
and you hid it from me ? ” 

“ It was by orders from our Beverend * 
Mother, and Marthe wished no one to know 
where she had taken refuge.” 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


185 


“ If that is the case, Sister, please excuse 
my speaking so.” 

The two girl friends kissed each other 
again, and Mademoiselle went back to her 
own cart. The general waved his hand in 
a parting salute. The horses started again, 
but the one in the village cart soon passed 
the hired cabriolet, and when they reached 
the summit of the hill the cart was almost 
out of sight. 

The general and his daughter were going 
to congratulate Mademoiselle Lormeau on 
her fete day. They were to meet George 
at his aunt’s. It was the 19tli of May, 
and the old lady’s patron saint, Ste. 
Denise. 

It was almost half-past nine when Marthe 
and the nun reached Aubecourt. They 
went to the old nurse’s cottage. The kind 
peasant woman knew her beloved foster- 
child at a glance, even though she was 
dressed as a religieuse, and ran out to 
meet and clasp her in her arms. 

“ Nurse, my father ? ” asked Marthe. 


186 


OLD RAGLOrS MILLION \ 


“He is dead. May our good Lord re- 
ceive Lis soul.” 

Marthe sighed deeply. 

“ Ah, I felt we should arrive too late.” 

“ Did Monsieur Raclot die this morn- 
ing ? ” inquired the nun. 

“ No, Sister. His soul returned to God 
last evening.” 

“At what hour?” 

“ Ten o’clock.” 

“ So you see, Marthe, that it would have 
been absolutely impossible to have reached 
here in time to see your father before he 
died. The mayor’s messenger did not reach 
the convent before eight or half -past. If 
you had left immediately you would still 
have been too late, as we could not possi- 
bly have arrived here before eleven. It 
takes three hours to make the journey.” 

“You are right, Sister. It was ordained 
that I should not see my father alive.” 

During this discussion, which had taken 
place in the street, many people were looking 
out of their windows, others even went to 
their doorsteps. 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


187 


These words flew through the air with the 
rapidity of electricity. 

“ It’s she ! It’s old Raclot’s daughter ! ” 

After they had said good-by to the old 
nurse, Marthe took Sister Angela’s hand and 
led her toward the chateau. 

In a moment the old nurse was surrounded 
by more than fifty curious people, who poured 
on her an avalanche of questions. 

“Leave me alone,” said the old woman, 
replying to every one’s queries at once. 

“ Yes, it’s my Marthe ! and after Ah, 

you have nothing to say now ! You are 
tongue-tied, eh ! This shows you where she 
has been. She is a novice at the Ursulines. 
Say, now, my kind gossipers, did she elope, 
eh ? Ah, you wretches ! to dare to malign 
my angel ! 

“ Ah, poor little one, they have said cruel 
things about you ! They have dragged you 
through the mud, and spit their venom in 
your sweet face! Ah, you people! You 
are a disgrace to a civilized community.” 

After having poured the vials of her wrath 
and indignation on the astonished villagers’ 


188 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


heads, the old woman went into her house 
and bolted the door. 

On the following morning Mathurin Ra- 
clot was buried. No great crowd of mourners 
followed his coffin. Only his servants, and 
tenants, and the old nurse, besides a few old 
women who went out of charity to every- 
body’s funeral. These walked behind the 
chief mourners, the orphan and Sister Angela. 
Along the route of the procession there were 
plenty of people on both sides of the road, 
and every one saluted with respect, not the 
dead man in his coffin, but his daughter and 
the nun who accompanied her. 

Already a change had been made in favor 
of Marthe. Those who had spoken most 
bitterly of her were the first to sing her 
praises. Her father was an old miser, but 
his daughter was innocent ; she had done no 
harm to any one, and she did not know of 
his wickedness. She was entitled to all re- 
spect, more especially, since she was unfortu- 
nate enough to be his daughter. 

When the coffin reached the church, 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


189 


George de Santenay, with his father and 
sister, joined the band of mourners. The 
evening before, at Mademoiselle Lormeau’s, 
they had learned of Mathurin Eaclot’s death, 
and that he was to be buried on the follow- 
ing day. 

“We will all go,” said the kind old gen- 
eral. “We owe to our dear Marthe this 
mark of affection and sympathy.” 

Sister Angela saw the Santenays when 
they joined the mourners. 

“My dear Marthe,” she whispered, “you 
are no longer without friends, for the gen- 
eral and his son and daughter have come to 
pay their last homage to the dead.” 

Marthe trembled slightly, and the nun saw 
that she blushed. 

After the funeral services General de San- 
tenay and his children followed the corpse to 
the cemetery. When all was over the old man 
approached Marthe and kissed her tenderly. 

“Have courage, daughter, and in your 
grief, remember that you have a devoted 
friend in me ! ” 


190 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION . 


Mathilde also affectionately kissed Mar- 
the, but George could not utter a word. 
So lie tearfully gave Martlie his hand. 
When these two hands met, they trembled 
in each other’s clasp. Then the young engi- 
neer let fall this exclamation : 

“ Ah ! Marthe ! ” 

This was all. 

The young girl hung her head to hide her 
blushes. 

The general and Mathilde left the ceme- 
tery to get their carriage, which was waiting 
outside the gates. When they were out of 
sight, a gentleman dressed in deep mourning 
came toward Marthe, carrying his hat in his 
hand, which permitted an observer to see that 
he was bald, though evidently not over forty 
years of age. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said he in an obsequious 
tone of voice, “ I am Monsieur Bondois. I 
was your dear father’s lawyer.” 

Marthe bowed gravely, and said : “ Bonjour , 
Monsieur.” 

“ You will certainly need my services, Ma- 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


191 


demoiselle, and from this moment I place 
myself entirely at your disposal.” 

“ I thank you, Monsieur. When I shall 
need your services I will call upon you.” 

“ Will you permit me to ask one question, 
Mademoiselle ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ I learned that the seals were placed both 
inside and outside the Chateau ? ” 

“ They were.” 

“ But that was a needless precaution.” 

“ So I was informed, Monsieur ; but I or- 
dered it done, for reasons that I do not wish 
to make known at present.” 

“ Ah ! then that is different to what I was 
informed, Mademoiselle.” 

The girl bowed to the lawyer. Then tak- 
ing Sister Angela’s arm, they left the ceme- 
tery to go to the house of her old nurse, 
where they were to dine. When they 
reached the cottage, the table was set for 
three, as Marthe had requested. The old 
nurse welcomed her guests with delight. 

“ My dear child, come in ! Here is your 


192 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


own little room, and I have made the bed as 
comfortable as I could, but I am afraid it will 
not be as grand as the chateau ; but since you 
wish to live with me, my darling, I have done 
my best for your comfort ! ” 

“ Be content, mamma, I shall be very happy 
here. Do not fret about my comforts ; take 
care of your own.” 

“ Oh, if love and affection will make you 
content, dearie, you will have nothing to wish 
for ! ” cried the old woman, almost gayly. 

After the dejeuner, Sister Angela and 
Marthe went into the little room and had a 
long conversation, which was terminated by 
these brief words from the nun’s lips : “ My 
dear Marthe, you are a saint ! ” 

At five o’clock the cabriolet, which had 
brought them to Aubecourt, came to fetch 
Sister Angela. 

When the nuns saw her return alone, they 
were very much surprised, though the Rev- 
erend Mother did not expect Marthe. She 
had not told the other nuns that Marthe 


OLD IUOLOrS MILLION. 


193 


would be obliged to remain in Aubecourt to 
settle up her father’s estate. 

“ Where is Marthe ? Why did you not 
bring her back ? Is she ill ? ” inquired the 
nuns. 

Sister Angela answered : “ Marthe is 

obliged to stay at Aubecourt, for the next 
two or three months, to close up her father’s 
estate and take possession of her magnificent 
inheritance which her father left her ; a 
million or more, people say. Don’t worry 
yourselves, Sisters. Marthe will return to us 
in time, and take the black veil.” 

That evening at prayers, when all the 
pupils and nuns were assembled in the chapel, 
the Reverend Mother came forward and 
said in her sweet, soft voice : 

“ My dear Sisters, and you, my children, we 
are going to pray for the temporal welfare of 
Marthe Raclot. May your hearts be lifted in 
fervent supplication on her behalf. Ask Al- 
mighty God, in his goodness and mercy, to 
sustain her under all her difficulties, and give 


194 


OLD II A CLOT'S MILLION. 


her the courage and fortitude to carry out 
the plans of duty she has imposed upon her- 
self.” 

The Superioress knelt on her bench, fol- 
lowed by all the other Sisters and pupils, and 
all the heads bowed down in supplication to 
the Most High. 


XIII. 


The following morning Martlie went out 
alone about nine o’clock. The villagers 
knew that she had not returned to her 
father’s house after the funeral, but was 
staying with her nurse. 

“ What does it mean ? ” they asked each 
oth er wond eringly. 

Martlie went out to pay a visit to Mon- 
sieur Rousselet. She timidly entered the 
notary’s office and inquired if she could see 
the lawyer. One of the clerks went im- 
mediately to inform Monsieur Rousselet, and 
Martlie was invited to enter his private 
office. The lawyer received her very kindly 
and deferentially, and asked her to be 
seated. Then he began to apologize for 
not having attended her father’s funeral, say- 
ing : “ I had to take my wife to visit her 
parents, where she is to spend the week, 

195 


100 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION. 


and I only reached ‘ Aubecourt late in the 
afternoon.” 

“ My dear sir, pray do not excuse your- 
self, for if I understand correctly, your rela- 
tions with my father were not friendly.” 

“ You are correct, Mademoiselle, but that 
would have been no obstacle ; for had I 
been in Aubecourt, for your sake ” (and the 
lawyer emphasized “ your sake ”) “ I should 
have accompanied your father to his last 
home. And let me tell you, that I met 
General de Santenay and his son and 
daughter at Rosieres. They are good, true 
friends of yours. I was the one to inform 
them of your father’s death, and I learned 
yesterday, on my return home, that they 
had come to Aubecourt for Monsieur Ra- 
clot’s funeral.” * 

“ So, Monsieur, it is to you I owe the 
honor of their coming to Aubecourt ! ” ex- 
claimed Marthe, in a low voice. “ Allow 
me to thank you most sincerely for your 
kindness ! ” 

“ Oh, Mademoiselle ! ” 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


197 


“ I am only a poor orphan, Monsieur, hav- 
ing no friends or relatives, and this mark of 
sympathy is very grateful to me ! ” 

“ Mademoiselle,” quickly replied the no- 
tary, “you have more friends than you im- 
agine. Please count me one ! ” 

“ Again I thank you, Monsieur ! I must 
have been inspired to seek your assistance 
and advice.” 

“ If you wish my services, they are at your 
command.” 

“ Yes, Monsieur, I shall need your advice 
and your legal services, as I have a great 

deal to ask of you ” 

“Pardon me for interrupting you, Made- 
moiselle, but I must tell you I am not, or 
ever was, your father’s legal adviser.” 

“Ah, Monsieur, have you taken fright 
at the mention of legal services to be 
rendered ? ” 

“ No, certainly not ; still ” 

“ Monsieur, I have come to Monsieur Rous- 
selet for advice, and I have no intention of 
going to Monsieur Bondois.” 


198 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


“May I inquire wliy you lionor me with 
the preference ? ” 

“ I have come to you, Monsieur, as the suc- 
cessor of Monsieur Poncelet. You would not 
attend to my father’s business.” 

“ If such is the case, I have only to inquire 
in what way I can be of service to you. 
What do you wish me to attend to ? ” 

“ Everything. I am afraid you will con 
sider me very exacting ! ” 

“If you are, Mademoiselle, it will be my 
duty to do the best I possibly can for your 
benefit-, and to show myself worthy of your 
confidence.” 

“ I am very ignorant about business.” 

“ I will be your adviser.” 

“ I am sure you will ; but that will not be 
enough. What I want you to do is to act for 
me.” 

“ In your best interest.” 

“ In the best interest of my father’s estate. 
Will you accept the trust ? ” 

“ I accept.” 

“ I do not know the exact value of my 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


190 


father’s estate, but I have heard it quoted as 
over a million.” 

“ You are not very well informed ! ” 

“ Do you know approximately the value of 
the estate ? ” 

“Yes, Mademoiselle.” 

“ How much, Monsieur ? ” 

“ Not less than a million and a half ! ” 

“ As much as that ! ” exclaimed Martlie. 
(In her thought this signified, “ From how 
many poor lias he wrung his fortune ! ”) “ Are 
you sure, Monsieur ? ” 

“ I think I am, Mademoiselle.” 

“ Still, Monsieur, how can you know ? ” 

“ Firstly, I have a copy of all his deeds in 
my office, with the exception of a few in the 
care of Monsieur Bondois. Secondly, by the 
value of the real estate acquired by Monsieur 
Raclot. Why, his real estate alone is worth 
one million. About his personal property 
and cash I may be mistaken, as I do not 
know the contents of his safe. After careful 
calculations on the revenues of the properties 
of your father (I do not speak of his expen- 


200 


OLD BAGLOrS MILLION. 


di'tures, wliicli amount to next to nothing), 
your father ought to have, at least, five hun- 
dred thousand francs in bank-notes in his 
safe.” 

“ My father always bought a great deal, 
Monsieur.” 

“ Yes, Mademoiselle, I did not count that ; 
but the large sums he spent in purchasing 
real estate I did not reckon, as he had 
the land in return for the money he ex- 
pended.” 

“We shall, however, know exactly, when 
the seals are removed and the inventory 
made.” 

“But, Mademoiselle, I hear that the seals 
were placed at your request. May I ask who 
advised you to have them affixed ? ” 

“No one, Monsieur.” 

“ I have no idea why you had them placed, 
as you were here to protect your own in- 
terest.” 

“Alone in the chateau, which was open 
and exposed on all sides, with only three ser- 
vants whom I did not know, or whose fidelity 


OLD 11 AO LOTS MILLION. 


201 


I was not sure of, I was liable to be robbed 
on every side.” 

“ Ah ! ” cried the notary, disagreeably im- 
pressed at her suspicions. And he frowned. 

“ You see, Monsieur,” continued the girl, “ I 
desire that my father’s estate be left intact.” 

“ Still, Mademoiselle,” replied Kousselet 
coldly, “ you will have the funeral expenses, 
the servants’ wages, and current expenses to 
pay, and also the government taxes.” 

“ Ah ! Monsieur, what I have to pay, why 
I must. And your fees, which you have not 
mentioned. I will give you my power of 
attorney to act as you see fit, and will tell 
you what I want done, feeling confident that 
you will carry out my project, and I place all 
my confidence in your ability to do it.” 

“ But you do not know me, Mademoi- 
selle!” 

“ Yes, Monsieur, yes; I know you, and I 
know why you refused to act as my father’s 
legal adviser. And,” added Marthe, with emo- 
tion, “ you have not yet told me whether you 
are my friend or my foe ? ” 


202 


OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION. 


“ Very singular young girl!” thought the 
notary. “ Decidedly, I can’t make her out ! ” 
Marthe continued. “ You do not know, 
perhaps, Monsieur, that I am living with my 
old nurse, where I propose to reside during 
my enforced stay here. Not residing in the 
chateau, I do not need the services of the 
three servants. I should be obliged if you 
would pay and discharge them. Also please 
give them a small token of esteem, as if my 
deceased father left it for them. There are 
also about one hundred beeves in pasture, fat 
and ready for market. I would like them 
sold as soon as possible. You will need a 
great deal of money. But there is time for 
all things, and everything will be done in its 
turn. Is not that so ? ” 

The notary replied with a bow. 

“ I think, Monsieur Rousselet,” continued 
Marthe, “ that you had better make an 
inventory.” 

“ Assuredly, Mademoiselle; as without an 
inventory, and the place and things des- 
ignated, you could not legally enter into 
possession of your property.” 


OLD llAGLOrS MILLION \ 


203 


“ AVill that cost much ? ” 
u Dame! yes,” replied the notary, looking 
over the girl’s face with careful scrutiny. 
“And, Mademoiselle, the rates are fixed by 
government, and also my fees are also on a 
legal basis.” 

“ Enfin ! ” murmured the girl. Then in a 
distinct voice she said: “One of the first 
things to be done is to advertise the domain 
and chateau at Aubecourt, because we shall 
need ready money. We must sell everything 
for cash ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” thought the notary. “ She has 
inherited the paternal avarice ! ” 

Monsieur had been impressed from the 
first by Marthe’s sweet, gentle manner, 
but he began to feel rather disenchanted. 

“ Mademoiselle,” replied he, “ I must tell 
you that the chateau is in ruins in some 
parts, and needs repairs. Now, if you ren- 
der it habitable in all the rooms, and repair 

the courtyard and stable ” 

“ Don’t talk to me of spending one sou be- 
yond what is actually necessary ! ” exclaimed 
Marthe. 


204 


OLD BACLOT'S MILLION. 


“Then you will not quickly find a pur- 
chaser for a ruin ! ” 

“ Very well, then ; let it crumble into 
dust ! ” cried she excitedly. Then calmly 
she said : “ We will sell the fields and 

woods for what they will fetch. 

“ If I understand you correctly, Mademoi- 
selle, “ you wish it sold as soon as possible ? ” 
“Yes, yes ! ” 

“ And for ready money ? ” 

“ That is exactly what I desire.” 

“Very difficult thing to do. There are 
very few persons in this county that can 
afford to buy property for cash. It may be 
years before a purchaser presents himself.” 

“ We cannot wait, Monsieur Rousselet ! ” 
“Since you wish to realize immediately, 
Mademoiselle, I may have to sell at a great 
sacrifice, and even then find it difficult to dis- 
pose of the property.” 

“ But I must have ready money ! ” 

“ Which you have, as I assure you that 
your father had about four hundred thousand 
francs in cash.” 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


205 


“That is not enough, Monsieur. We must 
sell the chateau and its farms. If you can- 
not sell it as it is, divide it into small parcels 
and sell it to suit the purchasers.” 

“ Under these conditions I may be able to 
dispose of it.” 

“ Now we will talk of the other property. 
Do you also intend to sell it all ? ” 

“ I will sell the farm and vineyards at 
Trielle and Courant, and those of Bosquet, 
and the great pasture land, and the woods at 
Noues and Hourie.” 

“We have not those to sell, Monsieur.” 

“ Alors ! you will retain those two immense 
farms and their woods intact ! ” 

The young girl looked at the notary, and a 
beautiful smile illumined her face. 

“ In case you keep them, you will need a 
steward,” continued the lawyer. 

The girl smiled again. 

“ The two farms and woods do not trou- 
ble me, Monsieur. These two farms were 
originally composed of small holdings. The 
deeds you have will show you to whom 


206 


OLD RAGLOrS MILLION. 


they belonged before my father acquired 
them. The farm at Courant belonged, I 
believe, to Madame Lambert and her minor 
children, and the pasture at Bosquet to the 
Charbonet children, did they not?” 

“ Yes, Mademoiselle.” 

“ Very well, Monsieur Bousselet,” said 
Marthe, raising the pitch of her voice till 
it was as clear and resonant as a bell, “ you 
will have my power of attorney, and as my 
agent and lawyer I order you to return to 
Madame Lambert and her children the farm 
at Courant ; to the Charbonets the pas- 
tures at Bosquet, and also return the woods 
and fields of Noues to their original pro- 
prietors or their heirs.” 

The lawyer sprang up as if he had been 
shot. 

“ What are you saying, Mademoiselle ! ” 
exclaimed he. 

“ I am saying,” replied the girl, also rising 
from her seat, “ that the hour for justice to 
be done has arrived, and it is time to return 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


207 


to the poor victims wliat my father’s power- 
ful hand wrenched from them.” 

“ Ah ! ” cried the notary, in a choking 
voice, “ I now understand. I understand it 
all clearly.” 

“ AA, bien ! Monsieur Rousselet, will you 
act for me ? ” 

“ I will act for you,” replied he, with his 
eyes full of tears. “ I will act for you, you 
noble girl.” He quickly dried his tears and 
continued : 

“ Forgive my emotion, and permit me to 
contemplate your charms and admire you to 
my heart’s content.” 

“ Oh, Monsieur ! ” cried Marthe, blush- 
ing ; “ you make me ashamed to look at you 
by your praise.” 

“ Forgive my admiration, but what you 
propose doing is so generous and grand ! ” 

“ My duty, Monsieur.” 

“ Your duty ? ” 

“ Strictly my duty. I have been well in- 
formed of my father’s tricks and schemes, and 
the usurious rates of interest at which he 


208 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


loaned money. I know how he became rich 
while his victims starved, and I desire as far 
as possible to console those whom he caused 
any sorrow, and whose tears I will now try 
to dry. Returning to the widows and or- 
phans the bread which he snatched from their 
lips, I will repair, as far as I can, all the 
wrong he did. I will not have his memory 
cursed as his life was ! ” 

“ Mademoiselle Marthe, his victims will for- 
get his wrong-doing in blessing you ! ” 

“ I only ask one thing, Monsieur. To be 
able to live in peace with my own conscience.” 

“ Please take a chair, Mademoiselle, and let 
us discuss your programme.” 

“ Yes, Monsieur, for I have much to ask 
you.” 

“ You do me a great honor, Mademoiselle, 
in associating me in your grand work of rep- 
aration ! ” 

“ I knew I could have entire confidence in 
your integrity and honor ! ” 

“ I thank you, Mademoiselle, for your mark 
of esteem. My devotion shall not fail you ! 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION. 


209 


Without delay I will begin to work ; prepare 
and make an inventory, also calculate the 
money really lent, and have all the deeds 
ready for execution.” 

“ Thank you, Monsieur ! Please attend to 
it at once. I have, however, one request to 
make of you.” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“Your labors will necessarily be very ar- 
duous and protracted, and I ask you not to 
mention to any one what you are doing. I 
want no one to know until we are ready to 
act.” 

“The secret shall be sacredly kept, I prom- 
ise you ! ” 

“ You make me your debtor, Monsieur. 
But you spoke of calculations. Can you tell 
me what ones you are proposing to make \ ” 

“Certainly, Mademoiselle. I must find 
out the exact sum your father lent on each 
farm before he foreclosed, and see what each 
one gets.” 

“ I cannot quite understand you.” 

“ Oh, it’s very simple ! ” 


210 


OLD ItACLOrS MILLION. 


“ It may be, but as I told you, I know 
nothing of business whatsoever.” 

“ Eh , bien , Mademoiselle ; let us take, for 
example, the farm at Courant. Monsieur 
Kaclot lent the farmer Lambert a fictitious 
sum of one hundred and thirty thousand 
francs. In reality he only lent about 
seventy-five thousand francs. To this capi- 
tal we must add five per cent, until the day 
the widow left. Now, as you propose put- 
ting the widow in possession of the farm, she 
will owe you the sum your father lent her 
husband, with the interest added. We will 
have to make out a mortgage for that sum. 
Do you understand me ? ” 

The girl replied by a shake of the head. 
“So, Mademoiselle, this is how I shall 
have to work in each instance.” 

“ Monsieur Rousselet,” replied the girl, 
“in proceeding in this way, your accounts 
will not be doing justice to them ! ” 

“ I assure you ” 

“ Or, if you prefer it, — they will not be 
equitable ! ” 


OLD llACLOT'S MILLION. 


211 


“ But ” 

“ Listen, Monsieur. I will not have any 
account. You can do far better and render 
your work far more easy. I wish to restore 
to each person the land my father took from 
them.” 

The lawyer jumped up. “ But your rights, 
Mademoiselle ! ” he cried. 

“ I have none, and I do not desire any. 
My father ruined many poor, unfortunate 
people, who are to-day suffering poverty and 
misery through him. They have rights ; I 
have none. They must be indemnified for 
all they have suffered. You will return to 
Madame Lambert the farm with full posses- 
sion, and give her clear title, and return to 
her all the papers her husband executed, and 
a full receipt as if the money had been paid 
in full. And please do the same with all the 
rest.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried the notary. He acted as if 
he was in a dream and had just come to his 
senses. “ But, Mademoiselle, if you do this 
with every one, you will be left with nothing ! ” 


212 OLD RACLOTS MILLION . 

“ That is exactly what I wish, Monsieur.^ 

u Luckily, when yon gave me your power 
of attorney you also gave me the right to 
protect your interests. Very well. Now the 
work of restitution shall be clone as you re- 
quest, and I hope to be able to save you one- 
half your father’s fortune.” 

“ I wish to save nothing — absolutely noth- 
ing, Monsieur. I do not desire one sou of his 
ill-gotten wealth.” 

“ You are going too far, Mademoiselle. 
You think that your father’s wealth was all 
acquired through trickery, but it was not. 
He worked very hard, and during the past 
few years he made a great deal of money 
off cattle. Certainly what he earned by the 
sweat of his brow and his activity and intel- 
ligence was not ill-gotten, and rightly belongs 
to you.” 

“ He could not earn anything honestly 
with other people’s money,” coldly replied 
Marthe. 

“ Will you allow me to say, Mademoiselle, 
that you show yourself more implacable to- 


OLD R A CLOT'S MILLION. 


213 


ward your father than his bitterest enemies 
have done.” 

“ I, Monsieur, am his daughter ! ” 

There was a moment’s silence, which 
Marthe broke, saying : 

“ Monsieur Rousselet, twenty-five years ago 
my father was only a poor plowman. Did 
he, by his saving, buy the first piece of 
ground ? You know what a plowman earns ! 
I have heard he was ready to loan small sums 
then at usurious interest. He married, and I 
know well that my poor, dear mother had to 
work as hard as he did ; but what did they 
earn? Only enough to support life with 
strict economy. Still my father kept on 
buying land. He made more by avarice and 
usury than he earned by honest toil. My 
father never stopped buying land, and in fif- 
teen years he was the richest landholder in 
Aubecourt and the vicinity.” 

“But, Mademoiselle, your mother had a 
large sum of money left her.” 

“ Ah, yes ! from my great-aunt Marie Mar- 
tin ! How much did she inherit, Monsieur ? ” 


214 OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 

“Two hundred and fifty thousand francs, 
Mademoiselle ! ” 

“ Which fell into my father’s hands 
through chicanery on his part.” 

“ But your great-aunt’s will ! ” 

“ Was an act of injustice ! ” interrupted the 
girl angrily. 

“ Madame Martin disinherited her brother 
for her niece, your mother.” 

“ I am perfectly aware of that ; and under 
these circumstances, as her brother was a 
poor man with five children, it was an out- 
rage on her part to have left them nothing ! 
Ah, this fatal inheritance ! what a curse it 
has been ! It’s the source of all my father’s 
guilt ! My great-uncle Bertrand must be 
dead before this, but his children are, no 
doubt, alive, perhaps married, with families, 
and in poverty. They were robbed, Mon- 
sieur Rousselet, and we must make restitu- 
tion to them also.” 

“ A hundred and twenty-five thousand 
francs, the half of your mother’s inherit- 


ance. 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 215 

“ You omit tlie interest, and the long years 
of waiting, and the misery which perhaps 
they have endured, these poor relations of 
mine ! You must give them the two hun- 
dred and fifty thousand francs, Monsieur 
Rousselet ! You see we shall need a great 
deal of ready money ! ” 

“We shall, by the way you are spending 
it!” 

“ Do you not approve of my actions ? ” 

“Yes, I approve, but only ” 

“ Oh, no restriction ! I want you to ap- 
prove of all I do ! ” 

“I am with you, and will do as you 
wish ! ” 

“ I am so glad ! ” 

“But what a tyrant you are, Mademoi- 
selle ! Well, when all the restitutions are 
made according to your ideas, and when we 
have sold Trielle and the Aubecourt prop- 
erty, there will still be a respectable fortune 
left for you.” 

“ Voyons ! Monsieur Rousselet, you will 
not understand me ! ” 


aid OLD R A CLOT'S MILLION. 

u Pardon me, but it strikes me ” 

“ I have already told you, and again I re- 
peat it, that I will not keep one copper sou 
of my father’s money ! ” 

“ lie ! ” replied the lawyer, with impa- 
tience which he could not hide. “ Be gener- 
ous, be profuse, be magnificent in your char- 
ity ! You can be the most remarkable girl 
of this epoch, if you like ! You can inspire 
all the admiration you desire ; create the 
greatest enthusiasm ; make yourself a pedes- 
tal as high as heaven ; become an angel of 
goodness ; but when your scheme of repara- 
tion is accomplished, what do you want me 
to do with the residue of your father’s 
estate ? ” 

“ How much will be left, Monsieur ? ” 

“ I cannot say exactly, but I should think 
about three hundred thousand francs.” 

“ Do not allow this to disturb you, as 
neither you nor I know all my father’s vic- 
tims. We will place a hundred thousand 
francs as a reserve fund which will enable 
you to pay any claims that may be presented 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION \ 


217 


in the future. With the other two hundred 
thousand francs, and if any money is left from 
the reserve fund* we will found a home for 
the aged in memory of Mathurin Raclot on 
the site of the chateau. 

u What women will, God will ! ” echoed 
the notary, and he bowed profoundly before 
this girl, who arose and gave Monsieur Rous- 
selet her fair white hand, saying : 

“ You will begin work at once, will you 
not ? ” 

“ From to-day, Mademoiselle ! Many of 
his victims have left the neighborhood, I 
think, but we can find them easily.” 

“You will also have to find the where- 
abouts of my great-uncle Bertrand and his 
children.” 

“ I have a copy of your great-aunt’s will, 
and many of the papers which were in Mon- 
sieur Poncelet’s hands. Among them are 
several letters from Monsieur Bertrand. 
These letters will give us a clue to his former 
address, and so Ave can find their present 
whereabouts in Paris. To-day I will write to 


218 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


a lawyer friend of mine and give him the ne- 
cessary instructions, and I hope we shall soon 
be able to find your relatives.” 

“ I hope so, Monsieur ; and I shall not re- 
turn to the convent until you have no further 
use for me. Whenever you have any com- 
munication for me, or desire my signature, 
you can send or call for me at my foster- 
mother’s. I shall remain with her.” 

“I thoroughly understand, Mademoiselle; 
and when I need your signature I will call 
and get it there.” 

He then escorted the girl with the great- 
est respect to the street. He returned to his 
office, where he remained for a long time lost 
in thought. “ Is it possible,” he murmured, 
“ that this remarkable girl will become a re- 
ligieuse ? ” 

While as for Marthe, she felt as gay as a 
bird who has just regained its liberty. The 
heavy sorrow that pained her conscience 
began to be lessened. She felt that she 
would never feel completely at ease, until 
all the evil done by her father was oblit- 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


219 


erated. Until then, her thoughts would 
revert to the sorrow and suffering he had 
caused. She must hasten to dry the tears 
he had caused to flow. She thought of the 
orphans and helpless women he had cast 
upon the charity of the world without a 
roof to shelter them ; perhaps some were 
begging bread from door to door. This 
was a bitter thought to her. 

Then remembering her great-uncle Ber- 
trand, she said : 

“If he is still alive, how happy I shall 
be ! ” 

And joining her hands in supplication, 
she exclaimed, raising her eyes to Heaven : 
“ Mother, my dear dead mother ! are you 
content with your daughter ? ” 


XIV. 


As lie promised Martlie, the lawyer went 
to work with ardor and activity, letting all 
other work on hand go until he had finished 
hers. 

By nature generous and good, Monsieur 
Rousselet was worthy of all confidence 
Martlie reposed in him. He was proud of 
the mission given him. It was a real honor, 
and besides the gratification he felt per- 
sonally, it would also redound to his credit 
to have been the person she selected to 
fulfill her missions. 

A little while after Marthe left his office, 
he sat down and wrote to his friend in 
Paris, giving him Jules Bertrand’s last 
address, and requested the Paris lawyer to 
make no delay in finding the ' old copper- 
spinner. At the same time, he also re- 
quested his friend to send him two intelli- 
gent young clerks who were able to take 
220 


OLD RAO LOT'S MILLION. 


221 


hold of a very important transfer of real 
estate. Monsieur Rousselet wanted a very 
able assistant with whom he could work in 
his private office, letting him live in his 
house and eat at his table, having no inter- 
course with any of his other clerks or the 
villagers, so that they would have no chance 
to discuss the work they were doing. 

When the letter was posted, the lawyer 
began to sort the deeds and papers of Math- 
urin Raclot which were in his office. It took 
him till midnight, and the two following 
days from dawn until midnight ; they were so 
voluminous. 

He requested the justice to meet him on 
the third day, at the chateau, to take off the 
seals. 

They found in Mathurin Raclot’s safe five 
hundred and thirty-two thousand francs in 
gold alone, nearly a hundred thousand in 
railroad securities, and besides, in a small 
leather case, the jewels he had given Marthe. 

“ These jewels were given me by my 
father,” said Marthe coldly. “ But I returned 


222 


OLD RAO LOT’S MILL LON. 


them to him, so you will please consider 
them part of the estate, and have them sold 
when the other personal property is disposed 
of.” 

“ But Mademoiselle, permit ■” 

“You know my intentions, Monsieur, and 
I must ask you to respect them.” 

The notary had to take the jewel-case back 
with him. 

The following day the money and securi- 
ties were deposited in the National Bank. 

At the same time, the lawyer and his 
assistant were preparing an inventory of his 
real and personal estate. The estate of 
Aubecourt was advertised for sale in lots to 
suit the purchasers. 

The notary knew that there would not be 
much difficulty in selling the land in small 
parcels. Monsieur Bondois quickly learned 
that his rival had charge of the estate, and 
evidently by the order of Mademoiselle 
Baclot. 

He was very angry with Monsieur Rousse- 
let, whom he designated as a schemer, who 


OLD RACLO'T’S MILLION. 


223 


evidently used some hidden means to rob 
him of his best client. Without delay he 
sought Marthe, and said : 

“ Mademoiselle, I learn that you have 
given all your business to my rival, Monsieur 
Rousselet ; is that correct ? ” 

“Yes, Monsieur.” 

“ You have acted for the worst.” 

“ I do not think so.” 

“ Monsieur Rousselet was not your father’s 
notary.” . 1 

“ I know that ; but I have made him 
mine.” 

“A new-comer in the county, he is not 
acquainted with your business as I am.” 

“ That may be so, but I have the utmost 
confidence in him and his business methods.” 

“ But again, you promised me ” 

“ I promised you nothing. What I said to 
you was this : that if it became necessary, 
I would avail myself of your services. Will 
you be kind enough, then, to give my lawyer 
all information that he may desire and ask in 
my name.” 


224 


OLD BACLOTS MILLION. 


Monsieur Bondois bit his lips with mortifi- 
cation and withdrew with a hang-dog look. 

The two clerks from Paris arrived. After 
a long talk with Monsieur Rousselet, they 
were placed in command of the business, and 
without delay began to write. Marthe had 
requested the utmost secrecy, and it was all 
done to please her. 

The residents of Aubecourt could not un- 
derstand why Mademoiselle Raclot resided 
with her old nurse, instead of in her own 
home in the village, or the chateau. 

They would have given a good deal to 
have known her intentions. Was she really 
going to become a religieuse, since she still 
wore the habit of a novice ? What was she 
going to do with all her money ? They could 
not believe she would give it all to the Ursu- 
lines. So the gossip still continued. Her 
poor way of living with her foster mother 
also gave rise to much comment. 

It was not worth while to be so rich and 
live so poorly, like a poor peasant in sabots. 

She had more money than she could spend, 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


225 


yet she never gave a sou to the poor. And 
yet she had been quoted as so generous and 
charitable. 

And at Aubecourt, and the surrounding 
villages, she could have found many worthy 
of assistance. 

She must be a heartless jade, greedy and 
avaricious as her father was. Nevertheless, 
whether it was out of respect to her habit, or 
her wealth, several persons bowed to her, and 
sometimes a woman would speak. Marthe 
was not proud, she returned all the saluta- 
tions, and spoke to those who addressed 
her. 

One morning Monsieur Rousselet came to 
see her with a letter. 

“ Here, Mademoiselle, is the letter I was 
expecting from Paris.” 

“ Eh, Men , Monsieur.” 

“ Your great-uncle Bertrand is alive, and 
well, in spite of his seventy-five years.” 

“ Oli, how glad I am ! ” cried Marthe. 

“ Here is the letter which my friend wrote 
me ; you can read it.” 


226 


OLD B AC LOT'S MILLION. 


The letter from the Paris lawyer was of 
four pages, closely written. 

Martlie took it and began to read it. She 
could not control her emotion, and had to 
stop reading to wipe her eyes, and after giv- 
ing a deep sigh she continued reading ; when 
she had finished, her tears again began to flow. 

The old workman was still alive, but had 
not worked for the past ten years. He was 
almost blind and was not able to take a walk 
without a guide ; otherwise, he was in per- 
fect health. His children were taking good 
care of him, though they were scarcely better 
off than he was ; but they were good chil- 
dren, who respected their parent and de- 
prived themselves of many things, so that the 
old man would lack for nothing. 

There were only four living, the youngest 
of three sons, who was not married, had been 
killed by a Prussian bullet at Montretout. 

Old Madame Bertrand had died from pri- 
vations during the siege, a week before her 
son was killed. 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


22 1 


The eldest son was a copper-spinner, as his 
father had been, and had five children. He 
was in very poor circumstances, but two of 
his children were old enough to work. 

The second son only had two children, but 
his wife was an invalid, and for the past four 
years had been unable to attend to her house- 
hold. 

The two daughters were both married, the 
elder had three children, the other two. After 
six years of marital misery and brutality, 
the younger daughter had been obliged to 
leave her husband, who was a drunkard and 
worthless fellow ; which left her two small 
children to take care of. It was with this 
daughter that the old man lived. The other 
children paid the rent and assisted her in 
return for looking after their father. 

The elder daughter’s husband was an ex- 
cellent man, earning good wages, and most 
generous to his father-in-law, who, but for 
his generosity, would have often wanted 
bread. 


228 


OLD RACLOrS MILLION. 


They were a most united family and were 
always ready and glad to help each other. 

Three or four times a year the whole family 
would meet at their younger sister’s house. 
On these festive occasions the old man would 
have the pleasure of seeing his children and 
grandchildren all around him. Around the 
festive board each one did all they could to 
make the dinner as lively as possible. If the 
repast was not magnificent, the happiness and 
good-will rendered it superior to a Lucullian 
banquet. A bowl of soup, a roast and salad, 
plenty of potatoes, and some cheese and wine, 
with coffee and cognac to finish it off. 

The wine, which was liberally watered for 
the children, so that their elders might have 
plenty, was purchased at the cabaretiei^s on 
the corner, and the brandy was always of the 
best quality, so that the old man might relish 
it. 

Each one paid a share toward this family 
agape. 

All this Marthe learnt by reading the Par- 
isian lawyer’s voluminous epistle. 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


229 


“Mademoiselle,” said Monsieur Rousselet, 
“since you liave read my friend’s letter, you 
are well informed regarding tlie exact posi- 
tion of your relatives.” 

“ I am extremely indebted to your friend 
for the interest he has taken, and the minute 
way he has described the family. I must 
ask you to thank him for me.” 

“ I w ill not fail to do so.” 

“ When will you write him ? ” 

“ To-day or to-morrow.” 

“ Monsieur Rousselet, is the day of restitu- 
tion far off ? ” 

“ Mademoiselle, in six weeks or two months 
at the latest.” 

“ You will be ready ? ” 

“Yes, Mademoiselle.” 

“ I am glad to hear it. But two months is 
a long time for an old man, who often lacks 
dainties that his appetite may crave, and 
whose living is a serious tax upon his family, 
especially to those of them who sometimes 
do not get even bread to eat. This worthy 
family, who are entitled to all honor and re- 


230 


OLD R ALLOTS MILLION. 


spect, are my relatives, Monsieur Rousselet, I 
am proud to say. Tell me, can I not now 
take a few thousand francs out of my fa- 
ther’s estate ? ” 

“Certainly you can. I understand what 
you want to do is to send your great-uncle 
and his children a small sum each.” 

“That is it, Monsieur, only a thousand 
francs each.” 

“ It shall be done, Mademoiselle. But shall 
I have your relatives told that you sent it ? ” 

“ No, no ; not yet. I want them to think it 
came from an unknown source.” 

“ Don’t you think they may guess ? ” 

“ That I do not know,” laughed Marthe 
joyously. Then she added, “ Don’t lose time, 
Monsieur Rousselet, it’s not only my relatives 
that I am solicitous about.” 

That very day Monsieur Rousselet wrote 
to the lawyer in Paris. His letter contained 
five one-thousand -franc bank-notes. 

One afternoon Monsieur Rousselet’s friend 
took a cab. He had in his note-case five 
bank-notes, each of a thousand francs. 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


231 


First lie went to tlie residence of Monsieur 
Maigrot, tlie son-in-law of old Monsieur Ber- 
trand, and lie saw Madame Maigrot, and 
handed her a bank-note, saying : 

“ This is a gift from a friend ; please ac- 
cept it.” 

Madame Maigrot opened her eyes and 
asked the notary a host of questions, who 
answered her by saying : 

“ I have a sum of money to distribute 
among some worthy people as a reward for 
filial affection. The family of Jules Ber- 
trand has been designated as one of the most 
deserving. I am here simply as an agent, 
and I fulfill my duty by giving you a thou- 
sand francs. I cannot tell you who is your 
benefactor, as I am myself ignorant of his 
name.” 

The notary left and went to the house of 
Antoine Bertrand, the eldest son. 

A little girl of about ten opened the 
door, and asked him to come into a clean, 
but poor room, which was very plainly fur- 
nished. There were two women in the 




232 OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 

room, one very sorrowful, holding in her arms 
a young child, the other woman was crying. 

“ Madame Antoine Bertrand ? ” inquired 
the notary. 

“ It is I, Monsieur,” replied the woman 
holding the baby. 

“ Then, Madame, there is a sum of money 
that 1 have to give you,” said the notary, 
handing her the thousand-franc note. 

The two women looked aghast, afraid 
to take it. 

“ It’s a gift, Madame,” added the notary, 
and to cut the interview short he told her 
what he had told Madame Maigrot. 

“We,” said Madame Antoine gratefully, 
“ accept what Providence has been good 
enough to send.” 

She then handed the note to the other 
woman, saying : 

“ Here, dear Louise, here is money; now 
I can lend you more than you asked for 
to buy bread and shoes for your children.” 

“ But, no, no,” cried Louise ; a I can’t 
take your money.” 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


233 


“ Take it, sister, be easy ; Antoine will be 
vexed if his sister refuses my assistance, 
and declare I never offered it to you.” 

And addressing the notary, the woman 
said : 

“ This is my sister-in-law, the wife of Leon 
Bertrand, who just came in to borrow ten 
francs of me, which I could not lend, not 
having the money in the house, as I only 
had five francs left for the week. You see, 
Monsieur, my sister-in-law* cannot work, and 
my brother-in-law cannot earn much now, 
as it’s his dull season.” 

“ I am delighted to meet Madame Leon 
Bertrand,” said the notary. “ She can re- 
turn you the bank-note, as she will not 
need to have it changed, as I have also one 
for her; a thousand francs from the same 
benefactor,” and opening his note-case, the 
lawyer offered Madame Leon the bank- 
note. 

Poor Louise was stupefied ; she could not 
restrain her tears of joy. Now she could pro- 
cure food and clothes for her husband and 


234 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


children. The tears she shed were grateful 
ones. 

The notary bowed and left the two women. 

“What honest folks they are,” he mur- 
mured, as he went down the long flight of 
stairs. 

In another quarter of an hour he reached 
the home of Pere Bertrand. He found the 
old man in front of the open window, smok- 
ing his pipe. Seated by his side was his 
daughter, talking, as she sewed the coarse 
clothing she w r as making. A child of five 
years was playing in the corner w r ith some 
old toys and a kitten. The other child was 
at school. 

“Who is this, Julie?” asked the old man 
of his daughter, as he looked at the notary 
nervously. 

“ I am a man charged -with a most agree- 
able mission to you, Monsieur Bertrand,” re- 
plied the notary, answering the old man’s 
question himself. 

“ Then you must come from either my son- 
in-law Maigrot, or my son Antoine. Is it 


OLD RAC LOT’S MILLION. 


235 


tobacco ? As they must know that I have 
none left, not even enough to have a pipe a 
day, scarcely.” 

“ Monsieur Bertrand, I do not come from 
either your son or son-in-law, but from a per- 
son who does not know you ; but he is inter- 
ested in old folks, and knows how hard you 
have worked in your life to raise your family 
respectably.” 

“ What does this person want ? ” inter- 
rupted the old man. 

“ Nothing wrong, assuredly. Here, Mon- 
sieur; I have to remit into your hand this 
sum of money; it’s a gift from the person I 
spoke of.” 

“ Really ? ” cried the old man. “ I believed 
all the fairies were dead long ago.” 

“ They are, Monsieur, but have left a few 
imitators; and the generous benefactor whom 
I have the honor to represent is one of them.” 

“ AVliat is his name ? ” asked the old man. 

“ As I have said, he desires to remain un- 
known, and I am myself ignorant of his cog- 
nomen.” 


236 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


“ That is queer.” 

“ Here is what I have to give you, Mon- 
sieur Bertrand, on behalf of my patron,” said 
the notary, handing the old man a roll of 
gold. 

“ Hdn ,” cried the old man, “ what is it ? ” 

“ A thousand francs.” 

“ A thousand francs ! ” exclaimed the old 
man. 

“ Yes, in fine, new gold pieces.” 

“ And is it all for me,” cried the old work- 
man, in a trembling voice. 

“ Yes, Monsieur Bertrand; now you can 
smoke as many pipes a day as you choose.” 

“ Madame Julie,” continued the notary, 
smiling, “ the fairies also remembered you, 
and wish to reward your kindness to your 
father. Here is a thousand francs in a bank- 
note for you and your children.” 

“ Ah, father ! ” cried the young woman. 

This was all she could say, speech was 
stifled. 

The notary, having accomplished his mis- 
sion, took his leave without either the old 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


237 


man or the woman accompanying him to the 
door. They were too astounded to move. 
In a few minutes Julie recovered her speech. 

“ It is true, father ; it’s not a dream.” 

“ Like thine, my surprise is great,” said the 
old man. “ There must still be some good 
people left in the world.” 

As soon as her sister-in-law had left, 
Madame Antoine went to her husband’s 
workshop and told him what had occurred. 

Antoine was no less astonished than his 
wife, but for the moment he did not try to 
give any reason. 

“ It’s very good for us,” he exclaimed. 
“ We will gratefully accept this gift. Now 
we are so rich we must think of others. You 
had better change the note and give father 
and Julie each one hundred francs.” 

Madame Antoine went at once to do her 
husband’s bidding, and found Julie and the 
old man still talking of the good fairy’s mys- 
terious visit. 

She explained why she had come, and 
handed each of them a hundred francs. 


238 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


“ The gentleman that visited you also vis- 
ited us, daughter,” said the old man, “ and 
here is what he gave me — a thousand francs 
in gold.” 

“ And I also the same sum,” added Julie, 
showing the bank-note. 

Madame Antoine opened her eyes with 
astonishment, and said : 

“ What can it mean ? ” 

“ It means,” gravely replied the old man, 
“ that those that are honest some day receive 
a just recompense.” 


XV. 


The great day of restitution approached 
rapidly. Martlie had signed all the neces- 
sary papers which the lawyer had brought 
her, and she was preparing to return to the 
Ursulines. Her presence was no longer 
necessary in Aubecourt, but the notary still 
detained her, saying he still needed her for a 
few minor details. The notary had a brill- 
iant idea in his head. He often had to make 
short trips to see the farms and property of 
Mathurin Raclot’s estate. One day, passing 
near Rosieres, he went to take dejeuner with 
his wife’s father and mother. He arrived 
about eleven o’clock, which was their usual 
hour. .But the servant said that Madame 
and Monsieur had just gone to take dejeuner 
with Mademoiselle Lormeau. 

“We will send word that you are here.” 

“ No, no ; do not,” said the lawyer, hiding 
his disappointment. “ I do not want to dis- 

239 


240 


OLD RAO LOT'S MILLION, \ 


turb them, as I was only passing. I am going 
on to town ; I will see them on my return.” 

He was turning to enter his carriage to 
continue his route and take lunch at the first 
inn. 

“ We cannot permit you to leave, Monsieur. 
Our master will never forgive us if we allow 
you to leave without taking dejeuner here ! ” 

“ I will go at once and prepare you a nice 
meal,” said the cook. 

“ Very well,” replied Monsieur Rousselet. 

The cook had already begun her prepara- 
tions when the butler from Mademoiselle 
Lormeau’s came into the kitchen, asking to 
speak to Monsieur Rousselet. 

“ Monsieur,” said he, “ my mistress has just 
learnt that you have come to Rosieres. 
Monsieur and Madame Moniere are at Made- 
moiselle’s to dejeuner , and could not receive 
you, but my lady has sent me to invite you 
to come over to her house ; and please pardon 
such an unceremonious invitation ! ” 

Monsieur Rousselet could not refuse the 
pressing invitation without appearing want- 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


241 


ing in politeness, so lie followed the man- 
servant. Mademoiselle Lormeau received 
him very cordially. 

“ I am very glad to see you ! Another 
guest is always welcome, and you are doubly 
so, my dear friend. It’s very kind of you to 
surprise us so ! ” 

Monsieur excused his appearance and 
dress, as he was on business. 

“ Never mind your costume. That is all 
right. Go and kiss your mother-in-law and 
let us adjourn to the dining-room.” 

The dejeuner was very lively, thanks to the 
old Mademoiselle’s bright chat. 

After the coffee, the lawyer said he must 
ask permission to leave. 

“ What ! do you want to leave us so soon ? ” 
cried Mademoiselle Lormeau. “No, no, we 
will keep you a little while longer! You are 
going to town ? ” 

“ I am obliged to, Mademoiselle.” 

“ Will you be obliged to remain there all 
night 2 ” 

“Business compels me to.” 


242 


OLD liACLOT’S MILLION. 


“ Eh, Men, my dear sir, I will let you go at 
four o’clock. In two liours you will reach 
the town, and to-morrow morning you can 
attend to your business.” 

The lawyer said no more, and resigned 
himself to stay two hours longer at Rosieres. 

The old lady sent for her gardener, and 
bade him show the gentlemen over the gar- 
dens and greenhouses, while the ladies 
stayed on the terrace. When Monsieur 
Rousselet returned from his visit of inspec- 
tion, the old lady called him to her side and 
asked him about Marthe Raclot. 

“ Is she well, and how does she bear her 
father’s death ? What will she do with his 
immense fortune ? ” 

“ Pardon, Mademoiselle,” said the notary, 
astonished. “ Do you not know ? ” 

“ Nothing, my dear friend; absolutely 
nothing. Besides, what is there to know ? ” 
“That is so. Aubecourt is a good dis- 
tance from Rosieres, and you cannot know 
what is going on there, as your nephew does 
not visit Aubecourt any more.” 


OLD 11 AC LOT 8 MLLLION. 


243 


“ My nephew, like myself, knows nothing. 
You ought to know that he would be 
ashamed to inquire about Marthe Raclot, 
whose father You understand !” 

“ I then take much pleasure in answering 
all your questions, Mademoiselle. I saw 
Mademoiselle Marthe yesterday. She is in 
good health, and I assure you that her large 
fortune does not trouble her in the least. I 
cannot say that the demise of her father has 
rendered her inconsolable, but I assure you 
that she takes great care to honor his 
memory.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” exclaimed the old 
lady. “ Is the memory of a man like old 
Raclot worthy to be honored by his child ? ” 
The old woman laughed and said disdain- 
fully : “ Does Mademoiselle Raclot expect 
to raise a monument to perpetuate his mem- 
ory?” 

“ You have guessed it, Mademoiselle,” 
gravely replied the lawyer. 

“ Ah, that is too funny ! ” 

“ Listen, Mademoiselle. Mademoiselle 


244 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


Marthe Raclot is erecting to the memory of 
her father a monument which all honest 
people will admire and respect.” 

“ AUons, allons, my dear Monsieur, you 
are joking me ! are you not ? ” 

“ I assure you, Mademoiselle, I am not ; I 
am speaking seriously.” 

“ In giving me a rebus to guess ! ” 

“ Will you favor me with your strict at- 
tention ? ” 

“ I will listen with both ears ! ” 

“ Since her father’s funeral Marthe Raclot 
has never put her foot in the chateau. She 
took refuge in the cottage of her old nurse ; 
she has a small room which is as bare as 
a prison cell, having only for furniture a 
wooden bedstead, a straw mattress, and a 
chair. Oh, besides, there is a looking-glass 
about as big as my hand. It is not a pretty 
or a comfortable room, however clean, and 
the person who lives in it makes it gay. 
The old peasant woman, Mere Tangier, does 
all she can to make the girl comfortable ; 
she watches her with maternal care, and 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


245 


tries to take the sting of poverty away by 
her tenderness. But the dear girl is easy to 
suit. She does not mind eating black bread 
and potatoes three times a day, with an egg 
on feast days, and there is always plenty of 
clean water to drink. Luckily, the girl had 
some money which the Ursulines paid her, 
and with the savings of the old nurse they 
have managed to live, but I am afraid that 
the common purse will soon be emptied, 
and I had to insist that Mademoiselle 
Marthe should borrow a few gold coins 
from me the other day.” 

“ What kind of a story are you telling 
me ? ” asked Mademoiselle Lormeau. 

“ A most pitiful story, Mademoiselle ; one 
where you can admire the love and devotion 
of the poor old peasant woman, and where 
you can see how the daughter of a millionaire 
like Mathurin Raclot lives.” 

“But, my good Monsieur, what you are 
telling me is impossible ! ” 

“ It may seem so, yet it is the truth.” 

“ I cannot comprehend it ! ” 


246 


OLD RAO LOT'S MILLION. 


“How is that? You, whom I thought 
the essence of all womanly sensitiveness, can- 
not understand that Marthe Baclot has re- 
nounced her father’s wealth because she will 
not touch a sou of money ill-gotten ? ” 

“ Is this a .fact, Monsieur ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, Mademoiselle ! ” 

“ But this fortune. What will become of 
it?” 

“ I will tell you. 

“ The day after her father’s funeral, at nine 
o’clock in the morning, the young girl came 
to my office. She was wearing the habit of 
an Ursuline novice, which she still wears. I 
was surprised to see her, as I was not her 
father’s lawyer, and I told her so. ‘ Mon- 
sieur,’ she replied, ‘ I know that you were 
not my father’s lawyer, and that you refused 
to be, and for that very reason I have sought 
you. I have need of your service. Will you 
accept me for a client?’ I replied that I 
was at her service. Then she told me that 
she renounced her father’s wealth ; that she 
would take nothing from the estate which 


OLD 11ACL0TS MILLION. 


247 


was acquired by evil dealings, and that she 
had selected me to assist her in the work of 
reparation which she was going to undertake. 
To be brief, she informed me that she consid- 
ered her inheritance as belonging to the many 
victims of her father’s cupidity, and that she 
was going to return to them all that her par- 
ent had robbed them of.” 

“ But that is too generous ! ” exclaimed the 
old lady, much agitated. 

“ It is too generous, but I told Mademoiselle 
Marthe that, after her work of restitution was 
accomplished, there would still remain nearly 
all her father’s savings, about half his fortune. 
‘You did not understand me,’ she said, when 
I had explained it to her. 6 1 will not take 
one sou — not even that ! ’ I have to return 
the property taken by Raclot to the old own- 
ers free and clear. Of course I objected, as 
I told her that before her father had ac- 
quired the property, he must have lent large 
sums of money on it, and that the money he 
really lent ought to be held as a mortgage 
against it, or that the money borrowed from 


248 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


her father ought to be returned. She would 
not have it so. What she ordered me to do, 
was to return the property intact, and give a 
receipt as if they had paid all debts. I told 
her that her father and mother worked hard 
and that her mother had inherited two hun- 
dred and fifty thousand francs. This time 
she was very angry, and cried : ‘ The money 
my mother inherited was through some ma- 
chination of my father’s. My great-aunt 
disinherited her only brother at my father’s 
request.’ I again urged her to take one-half, 
which rightfully belonged to her mother. 

“ ‘ I might, but I won’t,’ she replied. ‘ My 
great-uncle shall have all that his sister left.’ 

“ ‘ I will conform to your desires,’ I re- 
plied, ‘ and do as you wish ; but there will still 
be left about three hundred thousand francs.’ 

“ ‘ Again I tell you, I want nothing.’ 

“ ‘ What shall I do after all debts are paid 
and all restitutions made ? ’ I then asked. 

“ She thought a moment, then said : ‘ I 
will found a home for the aged on the site of 
the ch&teau, in memory of my father, and 


OLD RAOLOrS MILLION. 


249 


endow it with the three hundred thousand 
francs.’ ” 

Mademoiselle took out her handkerchief 
and wiped her eyes. 

“ Oh, what a girl ! what a noble woman she 
will make ! You were right a little while 
ago, Monsieur Kousselet, when you said she 
would raise a monument in honor of her 
father, before which the whole world would 
bow ! And all this is done without ostenta- 
tion and noise ? ” 

“ Secretly, Mademoiselle, She is hiding it 
as if she was going to commit some shocking 
crime.” 

“And I distrusted this angel of purity! 
Oh, Monsieur, I shall never forgive myself ! ” 

“ I have one thing more to tell you to show 
the character of this girl. In making the in- 
ventory of her father’s valuables in the safe, 
I came across a small jewel-box. One day in 
a fit of generosity her father had given them 
to her. These she had returned him before 
leaving home. Knowing that they belonged 
to her personally, I took them to her.” 


250 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


u Eh, lien ! ” 

“Eh, lien, Mademoiselle, she would not 
take them back ! 

“ 4 These jewels,’ she said, 1 also belong to 
my father’s' victims. You will put them in 
the inventory ! 5 ” 

“ Have they been sold \ ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Do you know who purchased them ? ” 

“ The purchaser was I, Mademoiselle. I 
learned that their value was three thousand 
francs from the jeweler who sold them, and I 
paid that sum for them.” 

“You did well, Monsieur, not to allow 
these jewels to pass into the hands of stran- 
gers. But tell me, does she still intend be- 
coming a nun ? ” 

“ Y es, Mademoiselle.” 

“ Have you not tried to dissuade her ? ” 

“ I have said all I could, but to no effect.” 

“ Ah!” 

“ If I had not kept her at Aubecourt, she * 
would have returned to the convent long 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


251 


“ Do you still need her ? ” 

“ Yes, her presence is still necessary. In 
ten days from to-day, that is Sunday week, 
the great work of restitution will be accom- 
plished. All the deeds are ready. Without 
knowing why, all the victims of Mathurin 
Raclot will be in Aubecourt, as I have 
requested them to be, on that day. Ah, 
Mademoiselle, this will be worth seeing ! 
People in the village know nothing. They 
are, however, astonished to see Marthe liv- 
ing like a poor peasant girl in a humble 
cottage. You know all the cruel, bitter 
things they have said about her ; they have 
not spared her, I assure you ! When she 
has accomplished this great work of repara- 
tion for all the evil which her father did, 
does she not also deserve some reparation 
for the calumny and abuse she received ? ” 

“ Yes, indeed, Monsieur Rousselet !” 

“ She shall have it, Mademoiselle, and I 
intend it shall be a brilliant one. This is 
why I have kept her at Aubecourt. I am 
preparing a triumph for her ! ” 


252 


OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION. 


“ I am glad you are ; she deserves it ! ” 

“ Will you come and see it ? ” 

“I?” 

“ You have not yet accepted the invita- 
tion my wife and I extended to you to visit 
us at Aubecourt. Come and spend a few 
days with us. This is a good opportunity, 
and Madame Rousselet will be delighted 
to welcome you.” 

After thinking over the invitation so 
cordially given by the notary, the old lady 
accepted it, saying : 

“ On Saturday week I will be with you 
about two o’clock in the afternoon.” 


XVI. 


The lawyer had requested all persons who 
had any interest in the property of old Raclot 
to be at his office, in the public square at 
Aubecourt, promptly at half-past eleven. 
But from about ten there was already a 
crowd collected. These persons were not all 
interested in the affair, but had accompanied 
friends who had been summoned by Monsieur 
Ilousselet to present themselves. They were 
curious, wondering why they had been sent 
for. They tried to discover the reason, but 
failed. 

Some were residents of Aubecourt and 
Ligounes, others had left the neighborhood 
and were living in the surrounding country. 
Those who had removed far had arrived the 
previous evening, and were staying with 
friends. When each new arrival reached the 
place, they were surrounded by friends and 
questioners. 


353 


254 


OLD BAOLOrS MILLION. 


“So, it’s you ! Were you sent for by the 
notary ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Do you know why ? ” 

“No.” 

“ That is singular ! ” 

At half-past ten all those that were inter- 
ested were on the square. Stanislaus, who 
was now a farm-hand instead of a proprietor, 
was also called, as he had to dispose of his 
small farm to Mathurin Ilaclot, during hard 
times, for a song. 

There were the Monsels, Jamerals and 
Langlois, and the Durands. Many of the old 
people were dead, and their children went in 
their stead. Among them was Madame Lam- 
bert and her three children, of whom the 
eldest, a girl, was hardly ten years old. 

All at once the onlookers saw an aged man, 
whose white beard and wrinkled face showed 
how hard he must have worked. He was 
holding the hand of a girl of about sixteen, 
who led him carefully and with touching 
solicitude. 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


255 


Every one was watching the new-comers. 
“ Who are they ? ” was asked on all sides. 

“ I do not know them ! ” 

“ Nor I ! ” 

“ Or I!” 

“ The old man must be blind ! ” 

“Any one can see that by the way he 
walks.” 

“ Poor man ! ” 

“ That handsome girl is perhaps his daugh- 
ter.” 

“ Say, rather, granddaughter ! ” 

“ See how she is telling him something ! ” 

“ Anyway, she is a line-looking girl ! ” 

In the old man, our readers have doubtless 
recognized Monsieur Bertrand. The girl who 
accompanied him was Rose, the eldest child 
of his son Antoine. The family had decided 
that she could best be spared to accompany 
him to Aubecourt. The old man, at first, 
declined absolutely to go > but a visit from 
the gentleman who had given him the money, 
and who now told him that he must go, 
changed the old man’s mind. So he went in 


256 


OLD RAC LOTS MLLLLON. 


response to Monsieur Rousselet’s summons, 
and he said, on leaving his home, with a shake 
of the head : “ Ah, if it was only to get the 
half of my sister’s money which that Raclot 
beguiled her out of.” 

“ I cannot tell you the reason why Mon- 
sieur Rousselet wishes to see you, but I can 
tell you that Mathurin Raclot died some 
months ago,” replied the mysterious visitor of 
bank-note fame. 

The letter that was sent by Monsieur 
Rousselet was addressed to Monsieur Jules 
Bertrand, and requested him to come to 
Aubecourt on important business. 

“ We have a second cousin there,” said 
Antoine Bertrand. u I shall be very sorry 
for her if she resembles her wicked old 
father. Until we prove to the contrary, we 
can think that she has remembered us. 
Father, she is rich, and must know that we 
are poor. Who knows but that she has had 
her notary send for you that she might give 
us something ? ” 

“My brother, perhaps, has guessed cor- 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. . 25 1 

rectly,” said Madame Maigrot, “ and in listen- 
ing to him an idea has just occurred to 
me.” 

“What is it?” asked Julie. 

“That perhaps the five thousand francs 
that were given us so mysteriously came 
from her.” 

“ Perhaps you are correct, sister.” 

“Very well,” said the old man; “I will 
go to Aubecourt as requested, and we will 
soon know.” 

As we have already told our readers, the 
old man arrived with his granddaughter on 
the eventful day. 

All at once a young clerk, sent by Mon- 
sieur Bousselet, approached the old man and 
said very respectfully : “ You are, no doubt, 
Monsieur Jules Bertrand?” 

“Yes, Monsieur, and this is my grand- 
daughter Bose.” 

“Will you kindly follow me, Monsieur 
and Mademoiselle. ” 

The clerk led them into his master’s 
private office. 


258 


OLD 11 AC LOT'S MILLION. 


“Will you oblige me by sitting down? 
I am sure you must be tired.” 

“ Monsieur,” said t be old man, “ can you 
tell me why Monsieur Eousselet sent for 
me to come all tliis distance from my be- 
loved Paris ? ” 

“I do not know, Monsieur; but Mon- 
sieur Eousselet will soon be here, and lie 
will tell you. Please Lave patience for a 
few minutes longer.” 

After saying these words the clerk left 
the room. 

At a quarter-past eleven Mass was over, 
and the congregation left the church. There 
were now at least one hundred persons 
waiting. 

They saw Mademoiselle Eaclot descend 
the stone steps of the church, prayer-book 
in hand and a heavy metal rosary hung at 
her side. 

When she appeared, the villagers showed 
her to the strangers, saying: “Here is the 
daughter of Mathurin Eaclot.” 

“ Is it really her ? ” 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


259 


“ She is peculiarly dressed.” 

“ She is wearing the habit of an Ursuline 
novice.” 

“ There are a great many persons on the 
square to-day,” remarked Marthe to her 
nurse. 

“ There are ; still it is not a fete day.” 

The notary had evidently not told the girl 
of his intentions, so that neither she nor the 
old foster-mother had any idea what was to 
occur. They crossed the square, watched by 
many persons. 

“ "Mamma,” said Marthe, “ did you notice 
how every one looked at me ? ” 

“But, darling, who could help it? You 
are so pretty that I don’t wonder at it.” 

“ Oh, nurse ! ” 

“You don’t like me to tell you that you 
are pretty, hey ? But you are. That ugly 
dress you persist in wearing does not conceal 
your good looks. And if every one does not 
say you are sweet they think it all the same.” 

“ I am very hungry, nurse. Let us go 
home and get dinner ready.” 


260 


OLD HA CLOT'S MILLION. 


If they had not hurried so, they would have 
seen the mayor, with his tri-colored sash, and 
the civil judge go into the notary’s house. 

A few minutes after the arrival of these 
gentlemen the doors of the house were opened 
wide, and a clerk, who, as roster, called the 
people by name whom the notary had re- 
quested to be present. As they entered, 
Monsieur Rousselet requested them to be 
seated on the benches around the hall. When 
all had entered the clerk closed the doors. 

Then, in the midst of a profound silence, 
the judge rose up. With great tenderness 
and eyes full of tears he eulogized Marthe 
Raclot, this generous girl who renounced her 
father’s estate, and he informed the company 
why they had been called together, telling 
them that the property they had formerly 
owned, and which had been acquired by 
Mathurin Raclot, was returned to them free 
and clear, and that the girl gave them a re- 
ceipt in full for all moneys her father had 
lent them. 

“ Monsieur Jules Bertrand, formerly of 


OLD RAC LOTS MILLION. 


261 


Ligoux,” continued tlie judge, addressing the 
old man, “ Mademoiselle Marthe Kaclot, your 
grandniece, knows how you were defrauded 
out of your sister’s money, and she wishes to 
make every reparation in her power. So, 
Monsieur, you will receive the entire sum left 
by your sister from the hands of Monsieur 
E-ousselet, Mademoiselle’s notary. The sum 
is about two hundred and fifty thousand 
francs.” 

The discourse of the worthy judge was 
often interrupted by cries of joy and tears of 
gladness from the assembled company. We 
will not describe the scene that ensued. 
People kissed each other in their joy ; some 
cried ; poor Madame Lambert fainted with 
delight. As for old Monsieur Bertrand, he 
pressed his grandchild to his breast, and 
sobbed. 

The voice of Monsieur Kousselet partly re- 
stored calm and silence, while he gave to 
each person the deeds of their farm and a 
receipt in full. 

The Mayor of Aubecourt left the room un- 


262 


OLD RA0L0T8 MILLION. 


noticed in the excitement. He went to the 
humble cottage of Mere Langier. Just as he 
arrived Marthe and her foster-mother were 
going to sit down to dinner. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said he to Marthe, “ will 
you kindly come with me to the office of 
Monsieur Rousselet, who desires to speak 
with you ? ” 

“With pleasure, sir; I will come at 
once ! ” 

“ Will you accept my arm, Mademoiselle ? ” 

“But, Monsieur ” 

“ I beg of you, do me this great honor ! ” 

The girl looked surprised at the humble 
words of the mayor, and smilingly accepted 
his proffered arm. They had scarcely, 
reached the street when a loud clamor of 
voices greeted them. 

“ Monsieur ! ” she said, stopping suddenly, 
and frightened. She dropped his arm and 
asked him the cause of this noise. 

“ Do not be frightened, Mademoiselle ; the 
village is at peace ; there are no riots any- 
where ! ” 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


263 


The business which the lawyer had to 
attend to with all Mathurin Raclot’s victims 
was over, and the interested parties had left 
the house. The news of what had occurred 
at the notary’s had flown all over the village 
with the rapidity of a train of gunpowder. 
Every one saluted Marthe Raclot with deep 
obeisances, and the men kept their heads bare 
till she passed. It was no longer the cold, 
embarrassed bow of other days. The young 
girl began to understand. 

The mayor had come to request her to go 
to the notary’s. Evidently, by the respectful 
salutations and the sympathy she received, 
the lawyer must have spoken. 

Still leaning on the mayor’s arm, she walked 
toward the square, where three or four hun- 
dred people were assembled. An old man 
in a loud voice cried out : “ The ground where 
this good girl’s feet tread ought to be car- 
peted with flowers ! ” 

“ You are right ! ” answered those who 
heard him speak. 

Marthe walked on, blushing and afraid to 


264 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


raise lier eyes. Before her the crowd opened 
a passage and the men and women bowed 
reverently. All at once a loud voice cried : 

“ Long life and happiness to Mademoiselle 
Marthe ! ” 

♦ 

As if these words were a signal, two hun- 
dred voices chorused : 

“ Vive Mademoiselle Marthe, the generous 
lady!” 

At this moment the girl was forced to 
stop. A woman, dragging three children 
after her, knelt in front of her. From all 
sides cries of applause thundered out. 

Marthe, bewildered, held out her hands 
to the kneeling woman and obliged her to 
rise. 

“ Madame, who are you ? ” she inquired of 
the woman gently. 

“ I am the widow of Louis Lambert, and 
here are my three children,” she said again, 
kneeling and trying to kiss the hem of 
Marthe’s skirt. 

u Ah, Madame ! ” cried Marthe, trying to 
control her voice, “ allow me to embrace 
you, and ask your forgiveness for him who 


OLD RA0L0T8 MILLION. 


265 


caused you sorrow and suffering; my poor 
father ! ” 

Saying these words, Marthe raised the 
weeping widow and tenderly kissed heron 
both cheeks amid a thunder of applause. 

Standing in front of a window in Monsieur 
Roussel et’s house, Mademoiselle Lormeau 
watched all that had passed on the square, 
and she clapped her hands joyously. 

“ Do you see that ? ” she said to Madame 
Rousselet. “ I would not miss seeing this for 
all the world ! ” 

When Marthe reached the notary’s house 
she was received by him and the judge. 

“ Ah, Monsieur Rousselet, what did you do 
this for ? ” she inquired reproachfully. 

“ I did exactly what you requested me to 
do!” 

“ I am sure of that ; but you ought to have 
let me know beforehand, and let me stay in 
the cottage.” 

“ Mademoiselle, I am sure I acted for the 
best when I asked our worthy mayor to fetch 
you. For had he not, the villagers would 
have besieged the humble abode of your 


266 


OLD RAC LOT 8 MILLION. 


honest foster-mother, and you would have 
been carried off in triumph and brought here ! ” 

“ You mean to say, Monsieur, that instead 
of scolding you, I ought to be very thank- 
ful ? ” said the girl, with a gentle smile. 

“ Yes ! ” cried the notary, laughing. “Now 
I have the honor,” he added, “ to introduce 
you to your great-uncle Bertrand and Ma- 
demoiselle Bose Bertrand, your new-found 
cousin.” 

Martlie came forward with a cry of pleas- 
ure, and embraced the old man tenderly. 
Then she turned to Bose and kissed her 
also, who returned her kisses with interest. 

“ My dear niece ! my dear little niece ! 
How unfortunate I am to be so nearly blind 
that I cannot see you as I long to.” 

“ Grandpapa, Cousin Marthe is as beautiful 
as one of the angels whom she resembles ! ” 

Knowing that Marthe had given away her 
whole fortune, the old man wanted her to 
keep half her great-aunt’s money. 

“No!” she replied in a resolute voice, 
“ it’s all for you ! ” 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


267 


“But, my child,” said the old man, “you 
will be as poor as we were ! ” 

“Yes, uncle, but I shall do as you have 
done : earn my own living ! v 

“ You work ! My dear child, you must 
not!” 

“Why not?” replied Marthe. “I have 
the strength, and I shall not lack the will or 
desire. Is not work the duty of all ? Each 
one has his own niche to fill, and each one 
must bear his burdens to keep the world 
moving.” 

“ I am sure you know what is best, dear 
cousin,” said Bose, “ but when I look at your 
little white hands, I ask myself, what can 
they do to earn a living ? ” 

“ I am a teacher ? ” replied Marthe simply. 

The old man was crying, and Marthe, who 
was holding his hands, felt the hot tears fall 
on hers. 

“ Ah, how I shall love you ! ” she cried, 
kissing the old man joyously. 

The old man in the crowd in the square 
had already said, as we know, these words: 


268 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


“ Under tlie feet of Marthe Raclot the 
ground should be carpeted with flowers !” 
These words were not idle ones. 

While the girl was talking with her uncle 
and cousin, the women and children of the 
village had pillaged all the gardens. When 
Marthe left the notary’s house to return 
home, accompanied by the mayor, she really 
walked on a carpet of flowers. 


XVII. 


After having said a few words to her 
foster-mother, Martlie sought refuge in her 
own little room. She was nervous with the 
excitement she had undergone, and laid down 
on her bed to try and calm herself, when 
three distinct raps were heard on her door. 

“ Is it you, mamma ? why do you not come 
in ? ” she called out. 

Her foster-mother entered softly, saying : 
“ Marthe, here is a lady in the kitchen who 
wants to see you ! ” 

She rose from the bed and walked to the 
door, but when she saw that her visitor was 
Mademoiselle Lormeau, she was surprised. 

The old lady came toward her very slowly, 
and extended her arms, saying : 

“ Marthe ! my dear child ! ” 

And taking the girl in her arms, she kissed 
her more like a mother than a friend. 


270 


OLD BAGLOTS MILLION. 


“ Oli, Mademoiselle ! Mademoiselle ! ” cried 
Marthe in confusion. 

“ You are no doubt surprised,” said tlie old 
lady. “ I can understand that. You did not 
expect to see me here in this little room. 
Perhaps you know that I am well acquainted 
with the Rousselets, and for a long time I have 
been promising to come to Aubecourt and 
visit them. I only reached here last evening. 
Ah, my child, how glad I am I came ! What 
a pleasure your goodness gave to many to- 
day. I witnessed the joy. And the happi- 
ness you bestowed on so many gave some a 
renewed lease of life. All the blessings of 
Heaven were called down upon you. I think 
of the poor mother you kissed, and the tears 
and kisses of her children on your gown and 
the cross on your rosary. And the old man, 
your uncle, whom I left crying to break his 
heart ! I think of the flowers thrown under 
your feet. Oh, the triumph of virtue ! Marthe, 
let me embrace you again ! How good you 
are ! and you think nothing of it ! and you 
renounce wealth and vow yourself to a life of 


OLD BALLOTS MILLION. 


271 


poverty ! It’s sublime ! But let us sit down, 
and if you will, we will talk a little.” 

They sat down on the only two chairs the 
room contained. 

The old nurse withdrew and closed the 
door after her. 

After a few minutes’ silence, Mademoiselle 
Lormeau spoke. 

“ Now, my dear child, what do you propose 
doing ? ” 

“ To-morrow, Mademoiselle, I am going to 
leave Aubecourt to enter the convent of 
the Ursulines.” 

“ So you want to become a religieuse.” 

“I do, if Almighty God will deem me 
worthy to consecrate myself to his service.” 

“ Mademoiselle, do you feel that it is your 
vocation ? ” 

The girl blushed and hung her head, and 
remained pensive. 

“ Mademoiselle Marthe,” continued George’s 
aunt, “may I speak to you like a mother 
would speak to her child ? Will you answer 
me frankly and without any hesitation, my 


272 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


dear ? Marthe, a few months ago you loved 
George de Santenay ? ” 

“ Yes, I loved him ! ” 

“ And to-day you no longer love him ? ” 

“ I have no right to love him ! ” 

“ Child, why did you, on the eve of your 
marriage with my nephew, break it off by a 
few words coolly spoken ? You must have 
had some serious reason to do as you did. 
Ah, these reasons the general quickly divined. 
‘ If Mademoiselle Eaclot will not marry,’ he 
said to George, ‘ it’s not through any young 
girl’s caprice, but because she loves you more ; 
and it’s through her father’s evil actions being 
known to her. To save her self-respect the 
brave girl has sacrificed her love. She is also 
a victim of her father’s.’ This is what the 
general said, Mademoiselle Marthe. You see 
he was not mistaken. When evil was said of 
you, and your reputation was the butt for 
scandal, the most odious calumnies, even I y 
which I now acknowledge to my shame, I dis- 
trusted you. My brother-in-law took up the 
cudgels in your behalf with an energy I never 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 2V3 

saw liim exhibit before. ‘ Lies ! nothing but 
lies ! ’ he cried. So Marthe, you were the 
first to recognize that you could not marry 
George de Santenay. Your father’s fortune 
was a barrier between you; but not now, 
since that fortune has gone, and no longer 
exists, and the obstacles created by your 
hands are destroyed by them. The reasons 
that justified your resolution not to marry, 
like those which forced George from your 
side, cannot be in force now ! Your conduct, 
my child, has cast your father’s evil con- 
duct into oblivion. By you, your father’s 
memory is restored to the respect of honest 
people.” 

“ Helas ! Mademoiselle, the stain is not 
effaced yet ! ” 

“ Don’t say that ! ” exclaimed the old lady. 
“ The stain you speak of has vanished and 
left no trace behind. Ask, my dear child, 
any honest person what people think ! At 
present I am the best judge of this matter, 
and when I am full of admiration for your 
noble conduct, and when I see what the 


274 OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 

daughter is, I never think of what the father 
has been ! ” 

“ Have pity, Mademoiselle, spare me ! ” 

“ So yon forbid us to admire you, but you 
cannot prevent our loving you ! To return 
to my subject. You told George to forget 
you. If I must tell the truth, my nephew 
tried very hard to do so, and I must add that 
both his father and I counseled him to try to, 
but all our counsels did not prevail, and he 
loves you more now, perhaps, than he did. 
He wanted to banish you from his mind, but 
he has not been able to for one minute. Do 
not blush so before me, an old woman who 
knows the human heart and recognizes its 
power before all earthly considerations. 
Why, you are trembling ! Mademoiselle 
Marthe, I asked you a few moments ago if 
you thought you were adapted for a religious 
life ? You did not dare reply in the affirma- 
tive, for your lips cannot utter a falsehood. 
Let me tell you, child, that you are not called 
to enter a convent ; for when you consecrate 
your life to God, you must be free from 
worldly love, and your affection for George 


OLD 11 AC LOT'S MILLION. 


275 


cle Santenay must be dead — which I am sure 
is not the case, because you still love him.” 

The girl hid her face in her hands and 
began to weep. 

“ My dear child,” said Mademoiselle, in a 
tender voice, “ your tears tell me the truth. 
Yes, you still love my nephew. To-day, I, 
his old aunt, ask you to become his beloved 
wife ! ” 

“ But, I am only a poor girl ! ” cried 
Marthe, a prey to violent emotion. 

“ Marthe, Marthe,” quickly replied the 
old lady, “ it is because you are a poor girl 
and have retained none of your father’s for- 
tune that you are more worthy to be his 
wife than the richest heiress in France ; and 
if you are poor — we prefer it. Did George 
know the extent of your father’s fortune 
when he loved you ? And when the 
general asked your hand of your father 
for his son, did my brother-in-law inquire 
w T h ether you had a dowry or not ? It 
was your own father who said, ‘ I will 
give her fifty thousand francs ’ ; and the 
general gave no thought to the matter, 


276 


OLD RAGL0T8 MILLION. 


but let it drop. It was you alone, with- 
out a sou, that my nephew desired. A 
De Santenay does not marry a girl for her 
money. If you insist on having a dowry 
before you consent to be my nephew’s wife, 
I will give you one. I am worth a million, 
and as my money will go to my nephew and 
niece, you can rest easy, my dear Marthe. 
You will never be reproached for the lack 
of dowry ; and not to mince matters, here I 
will give you two hundred thousand francs 
for your wedding present, the same as I will 
give your husband. However, money will 
not influence your heart, Marthe, I am sure. 
Now that you have accomplished your 
work of restitution, also restore happiness 
to the Santenay family. My nephew is 
wretched ; the general loves you as a daugh- 
ter, and you know how fondly Mathilde 
loves you. Come, child, we all want you, 
and our arms are extended to clasp you to 
our hearts. You are silent, Marthe. Mon 
Dieu ! Marthe ! am I not eloquent enough ? 
What more can I say ? ” 


OLD RACLOT'S MILLION. 


277 

“ Nothing, nothing, Mademoiselle,” replied 
the girl, still weeping. 

“ I have no more to say, Marthe, but tell 
me one thing ? What shall I tell my dear 
nephew ? ” 

“ Tell him — that I still — love him ! ” 

The old lady could not repress a. cry of 
joy. She encircled the young girl with her 
arm, and pressed her to her breast. 

“ Now,” she said, “ I must hasten to tell the 
good news to my nephew ! ” 

“ Bat will it not be unwise of Monsieur 
George de Santenay to bestow his name on 
the daughter of Mathurin Baclot ? ” asked 
Marthe nervously. 

“ Child,” replied the old lady, smiling, “ the 
daughter of Mathurin Baclot is worthy of all 
our respect and admiration ! ” 

They decided that that evening Mademoi- 
selle Lormeau should write two. letters, one 
to the general and the other to George, to 
fix upon the wedding day. As all the legal 
steps necessary had already been taken, the 
marriage could take place almost immediately, 


278 


OLD RACLOTS MILLION. 


as there were only the invitations to send out 
and the bride’s trousseau to get. 

Marthe was going to write to the kind 
nuns and thank them for their hospitality 
and goodness to her, and inform them of the 
change in her plans. 

It was also decided that it would be better 
for the young girl to stay at her nurse’s until 
the wedding day. There her bridegroom 
would come and fetch her for the civil as 
well as ecclesiastical marriage. After the 
wedding, Mademoiselle’s house would be 
ready to receive the young couple. 

At the notary’s house, the judge, the 
mayor, and Monsieur Bertrand were impa- 
tiently awaiting the return of Mademoiselle 
Lormeau, who felt so confident on leaving 
these gentlemen that she would be able to 
induce Marthe to give up all idea of enter- 
ing the convent. 

“ I succeeded ! ” she cried, on entering the 
salon at Monsieur Bousselet’s. “ In a week, 
Monsieur le Maire, I think you will be 
called upon to put on your official costume 
to tie the nuptial knot ! ” 


OLD 11 AC LOTS MILLION . 2V9 

Every one was delighted at the old lady’s 
success. 

“ Oh, grandpapa ! I am so glad she is 
going to marry, and not be a nun ! ” cried 
Hose joyfully. 

Monsieur Rousselet invited the company 
to dinner. The Bertrands were to stay at 
the notary’s house, as they were to return 
to Paris the next day. The old man re- 
ceived a government draft from the hands 
of the notary, on the Bank of France, for 
two hundred and fifty thousand francs, 
payable at sight, in Paris. 

In the evening when the guests had left, 
and Madame Rousselet was taking the Ber- 
trands to the rooms prepared for them, 
Mademoiselle Lormeau found herself alone 
with the notary, and she said to him : 

“ Did you not purchase from the Raclot 
estate a case of jewels whiQh originally 
belonged to Marthe ? Have you given 
them to your wife yet?” 

“Ho, not yet.” 

“ So then you will not object to let me 
have them for the price you paid for them ? ” 


280 


OLD R ALLOTS MILLION. 


“ I suppose, Mademoiselle, you wisli to 
return them to the young lady.” 

Mademoiselle Lormeau smiled; then tak- 
ing the notary’s hand, she said: “ You are 
mistaken, my friend. Mademoiselle. Marthe 
will receive other jewels, which will be 
given her by my nephew and myself ! ” 

“ I know that.” 

“ Listen. I have decided on giving her the 
trousseau and arranging the corbeille de mar- 
riage for George. I need not tell you that it 
is one of the greatest pleasures I ever had in 
life to welcome that girl into our family.” 

“ I am sure you will do everything you 
can, Mademoiselle ! ” 

“ Why I ask you to let me have the jewels 
which were given her by her father, is that 
I may keep them as the most precious treas- 
ures that I possess.” 

“Ah, this time I understand you, Made- 
moiselle. You ladies have such delicate and 
tender sentiments which only belong to the 
fair sex.” 

“ Flatterer ! ” 


OLD RAO LOTS MILLION. 


281 


“ To-morrow, Mademoiselle, I will give you 
tlie jewel-case with its contents.” 

“How can I thank you enough, Monsieur 
Rousselet ! ” 


XVIII. 


Two days after the events we have just 
laid before our readers, Martbe received a 
letter in response to hers, from the Superior 
of the Ursulines. 

“We have lost you, dear Marthe,” wrote 
the kind nun, “but believe that the good 
news you wrote me rather more than com- 
pensates me for your loss. You were not 
called, my daughter, to consecrate your life 
to the service of God. As I told you, there 
are sacrifices that he will not accept. He, in 
his infinite wisdom, had other work for you 
to do. Though you tried hard to banish the 
thoughts of George de Santenay from your 
heart, you hid your thoughts bravely, but I 
often saw traces of tears on your cheeks 
when you did not think I was watching you. 
Ah, my dear child, I was certain when I told 
you that 1 the cold steel shears would never 
cut off those waving locks on the steps of 


OLD BACLOT’S MILLION. 


283 


the sanctuary.’ A new life is about to com- 
mence for you. It must be a happy one, for 
no one is more worthy, or merits happiness 
more than you do. You will love your hus- 
band and the children that heaven will send 
you. You will be a good and faithful 
spouse and loving mother, respecting your 
husband as your head, and doing his will. 
Remember that in every station of life we 
can serve the good God, when we conform to 
his will in all things.” 

Marthe did not read the Superior’s letter, 
from which we have quoted a few of the 
principal passages, without shedding a few 
tears. She was still holding the letter in her 
hand when George entered the room. He 
had received his aunt’s letter the previous 
evening, and hastened to answer it in person. 
Silently the girl gave him her hand. 

u Ah, Marthe, my dear Marthe ! you have 
made me so happy ! You have given me a 
new life, to be devoted to you ; but you are 
crying ! what is the matter ? ” 

She handed him the Superior’s letter and 


284 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


said : “ Read it, Monsieur George, and you 
will understand why I am crying.” 

The young man took the letter and read 
it with emotion. 

“ So, Marthe,” he said, looking at her with 
love and tenderness, “ you also suffered ! ” 

“ Yes, for I tried to forget you, but you 
were always in my thoughts ! ” 

George’s arm encircled her waist. He 
pressed her to him. 

Rlushingly she let her head fall on his 
shoulder. 

“ Marthe, look up, and see how I love you ! ” 
cried George. 

In a low voice she answered : “ I love you 
too, my George ! ” 

“ Marthe, my well beloved, you once sent me 
away. Now I have come back, and nothing 
in heaven or earth shall separate us again ! 
You are mine, as I am yours, forever ! ” 

The following day Marthe received a visit 
from the general and his daughter. Marthe 
wished to delay the wedding for several 
months on account of her father’s recent 


OLD RAGLOTS MILLION. 


285 


death, but her friends urged her not to do 
so on account of the exceptional position 
she was in, and it would be better for her to 
marry at once, even though it did wound an 
established custom. She gave in to their in- 
sistance. 

In the village it caused no surprise, for 
Mathurin Kaclot was forgotten in the happi- 
ness of his daughter. 

Mademoiselle Lormeau was very busy going 
and coming. It was she who arranged all 
the details of the wedding, and she was as 
active as a cat. 

She went to town and saw the dressmaker 
from whom Monsieur Kaclot had ordered 
Marthe’s wedding dress. The dressmaker 
had never delivered the gown, but Monsieur 
Kaclot had paid her for it. The dress was not 
completed, and was still lying in the card- 
board box. Mademoiselle gave orders to 
have it finished at once, and she ordered two 
other dresses to be delivered at the same 
time, so that Marthe might be spared the 
trip to town. The old lady, who was a fine 


286 


OLD IiACLOT’S MILLION. 


dressmaker, agreed to try the dresses on and 
remedy any defects herself. She also sent to 
Paris for the rest of the bride’s trousseau. 
Forgetting nothing, she handed her nephew 
twenty thousand francs, saying : 

“ Your betrothed has not a single jewel or 
a scrap of real lace. Yon had better take 
your sister and go to Paris (Mathilde knows 
Marthe’s taste) and buy her some pretty 
things.” 

The day fixed for the wedding arrived. It 
was at the end of the harvest, and a regular 
fete day in the village. The villagers left off 
working in the fields at about nine o’clock 
and attired themselves in their Sunday 
clothes to do honor to the marriage of Ma- 
thurin Eaclot’s daughter. 

When Marthe came out of her foster- 
mother’s cottage on the arm of her great-uncle 
she was received with acclamations of delight 
by the assembled populace. On both sides of 
the road the men and women formed a solid 
mass. 

What shouts of joy, and waving of hats 


OLD RACLOT’S MILLION. 


287 


and handkerchiefs ; a regular ovation, a new 
triumph for her. 

People had come for miles to greet and see 
the charming bride, and for the surrounding 
ten miles she was the center of attraction. 

There were a large number of invited 
guests. All the Bertrands came from Paris. 
The most important people of the neighbor- 
hood came to render homage to the idol of 
the good people of Aubecourt — Marthe 
Raclot. 

The bride had for her witnesses- her great- 
uncle Jules Bertrand and her lawyer 
Rousselet. The witnesses for the De Sante- 
nays were the chief-engineer of the Depart- 
ment and the prefect. 

The reader no doubt wonders where all 
these numerous guests were housed and 
fed, as it is customary to give a wedding 
banquet in France. 

Certainly there was no hotel large enough 
to contain them all in Aubecourt, but 
Madame Lormeau was not at the end of 
her resources yet. In the large garden of 


288 


OLD BAOLOTS MILLION. 


the notary’s house a magnificent tent was 
erected, and the day before the cooks and 
their assistants, with a corps of waiters and 
all the necessary plates, silver, and dishes, 
besides provisions and a large range, arrived 
from Paris on a special train. 

Under the canopy of the tent a superb 
feast was served, and, as Monsieur le Cure 
said, it recalled the marriage of Cana in 
Galilee. But, as the epoch of changing water 
into wine had gone by, Mademoiselle Lormeau 
took care to see that there was plenty of good 
burgundy and champagne for the guests. 

Four years have elapsed since Marthe be- 
came George’s wife. 

They have two children, a boy and a girl ; 
and the young mother, when kissing their 
curly heads, often says to her husband : “ I 
am the happiest woman in the world ! ” 

The old general is wild about his little 
grandson, and he teaches him the drill, which 
the little fellow enjoys as much as the old 
gentleman. 


OLD RAOLOTS MILLION. 


289 


“ Grandpapa ! ” lie says, making the old 
general laugli until lie cries, “ when I am big 
I will fight the naughty foreign soldiers who 
come to France to make war ! ” 

George de Santenay is on the eve of being 
promoted to the chief of the engineer corps. 

The story of Marthe Raclot is known 
everywhere, and she is much sought after 
and received as a dear friend by all, rich and 
poor alike. 

Two or three times a year she visits Aube- 
court, to see her Home for the Aged, which 
now contains twenty-five old persons. She 
endowed it with an income of eighteen thou- 
sand francs a year. The Home is on the site 
of the chateau, with its grounds and gardens. 
The old folk are confided to the care of three 
Sisters of Charity, assisted by two women 
and one farm servant ; and is under the 
management of a board of directors, with 
a resident physician detailed by the gov- 
ernment. 

The feudal chateau of Mathurin Raclot 
was demolished to make way for this lasting 


290 


OLD RAG LOT 8 MILLION. 


charity, and though the cMteau may be for- 
gotten, this Home for the Aged will never 
be, for if it should be destroyed, it would 
arise again — as good deeds are immortal. 




















•• 








/ 


/• 








% 




\ t 

. «/ 
































